


Our Lives Unraveled

by daxcat79



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Drama, Episode Fix-it: s04e08 Silence in the Library, Episode Related, F/F, F/M, Humor, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daxcat79/pseuds/daxcat79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the universe gives us tiny miracles, and sometimes it rewrites history for us.  The universe does care about the Doctor, and it’s finally going to prove it, but at what cost?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hidden Away In The Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> After my last story I wanted to write something shorter, but I still managed to make it all complicated. It was also my aim to end a story with a happier end for once. I'll let you be the judge as to whether I managed it.

_Unraveling. Like tearing strips of paper from a book and taping them back inside, but different. It stings and burns where she’s been cut, bleeding out, but contained with clumsy patchwork and stitching. Her edges throb and ache. **Wrong.** It’s all **wrong**. Why can nobody see it? Unraveling in every page, torn and pasted, new words cover the old ones… she can see what’s different. Why can’t everybody else?_

_**“River….”** _

_Her skin is on fire. Her mind set ablaze by this shock to her system. Unsettling and unending. She doesn’t comprehend who’s responsible or how. Another tear, another cut, but replaced almost the moment she feels it happen. She’s coming undone. No… not undone. She’s being **redone**. It’s happening over and over again in every point in time. She tries to find focus in the storm of unending change, but everything’s far too scrambled. It’s chaos. It’s… wrong._

**“River!**

River shot up from the covers with a gasp. Something pressed against her chest, restricting normal airflow, but no… that wasn’t right. What was happening? Why couldn’t she breathe? She knew what this was. An attack. Panic. She was panicking. Walls closing in. So hot. _Can’t breathe._ A hand gently touched against the bare skin of her back, fingers slipping down her spine, and she closed her eyes tight in an attempt to quell yet another episode. This wasn’t the first time she’d endured this. She just needed control… get a grip… let her surroundings sink in. She was trembling, muscles burning with a familiar ache, and she felt a shiver as cool air hit clammy skin.

“River, it’s okay,” a soothing voice whispered, _his_ voice. “I’m here. Shhhh… you’re safe.”

His words gave her comfort, and although the pressure on her chest remained, she managed to take several calming breathes. Her head stopped spinning with each breath, but she still felt dizzy… faint. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his embrace, and she went willingly. _Don’t let him see the damage._ It was too late for that. She was already sobbing.

Dry lips pressed against the top of her head as he rocked her, an unwavering force in her moment of instability. She wasn’t yet aware of her surroundings, still too lightheaded. River didn’t notice her blue diary sitting beside the bed with a sonic screwdriver on top. She did see the cup of cold tea lying on the floor with traces of her lipstick on the rim.

The lights were dim, allowing her to see outlines and texture, but not with great detail. Her grip on reality was crumbling fast, and she hadn’t a clue how to pull herself back from the brink. His presence was all she had, one stabilizing force in the dark. The pad of his thumb grazed her breast, drawing her attention away from the disaster that was her mind. She was naked… they both were. Memories of the previous night settled in her mind of passion and heat. Sweat and desire. River grasped those memories with both hands and held on through the winds tearing down her sanity. Her vision began to clear. _Just breathe._ She was feeling more lucid with each passing second. 

“Better?” he finally asked when her breathing evened out.

River’s smile was faint and watery. “Not really… no.” With a sigh, she opened her eyes. Her head was tucked under his chin, and her left hand was pinned between his chest and her cheek. If she focused she could almost feel the steady rhythm of his right heart under her palm. “Where am I?”

“The Tardis… way up in the clouds of our favorite planet. We’re right over England in 1892… it’s almost Christmas.”

She remembered, a bit foggy, but her mind was supplying the details gently (as if somehow aware of her mental state). River remembered like a dream. A space suit that she couldn’t get off fast enough. The rising panic in her mind that something significant had changed, but she was the only person that seemed to notice. The Doctor was there, trying to calm her down, assuring her that everything was fine… only it wasn’t. She _knew_ it wasn’t. “You brought us here because… I’m… unstable.”

The Doctor kissed her forehead and pulled away just enough to look at her. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You’ve been through a lot, River. I just… I never realized how it would affect you… going to the Library,” he told her, his frown deep and troubled.

_Wrong._ River shook her head, trying to dispel the nagging in her head that wouldn’t stop. “You were there… you didn’t know me.”

He gave her a faint smile of encouragement. “Our first date. Didn’t know it at the time, but don’t you dare argue… it counts. _You_ were brilliant as always, saved everyone… 4022 lives.”

“I died.” The words slipped out of her mouth, not quite making sense, and she watched the Doctor’s eyebrows wrinkle with worry.

“No… River no… you didn’t. You remember what happened… you must. It was your idea. We all would have been lost if not for you… or I would have done something incredibly stupid like sacrifice myself heroically. That face… always with the dramatics.”

She lived? No, that didn’t seem right, but the Doctor was staring back at her as if trying to solve a puzzle. His touch was gentle and cautious, searching her face with a strange sort of yearning. Waiting for it all to click into place. “You hid us away here because I’ve gone mad,” she realized.

“Oi… you’re not mad!” he insisted, pulling her close as he pressed his forehead against hers. “River, we’ll figure out what’s happened to you. I promised. No adventures. No traveling. Just you and me… here… sorting it out.”

River shivered once again… the chill in the air and her damp skin. The Doctor immediately noticed and pulled her against him, dragging River back down in their bed. Warm covers soon followed, hiding away her nudity, and she felt him press against her side. His left arm lie beneath her neck, fingers absently stroking her left arm. His right arm lay strewn over her stomach, with restless hands tracing the curve of her hip. The warmth of his body and the blankets eased her tension, an instant relief. He kissed her shoulder, letting the tip of his nose graze her skin. “Are we sorting it out with sex?” The teasing helped, and she felt him chuckle against her.

“Doctor’s orders,” he whispered into her shoulder, kissing the patch of skin under his lips once more.

Her eyes slipped closed for a moment, smiling despite the confusion and fog of her mind. He felt warm against her, grounding her in the present. She was obviously exhausted, but she didn’t want to go back to sleep. Her husband would rarely stick around in bed unless there was a reason, and she was quite certain this wasn’t the first time she’d woken up in a panic. If she concentrated, she’d know it was how she awoke almost every morning, if she managed to sleep at all. He read books to keep occupied, opened her diary and encouraged her to write when she felt confused, told her all about adventures he’d had long before her time… or ones shared with her parents. No… this madness wasn’t recent. She’d been struggling with it for a while now. She turned her head towards him, taking in that baby face, bed hair and all. “How long have we been here?”

“Several months since the day you came back from the Library. I… thought… perhaps… losing Amy and Rory was what did it. They were your parents, and you can tell me it’s fine all you want, but you miss them too. I know you do. We both do.” Sadness in those eyes, and he closed them quickly before she could see too much. He was trying to be the strong one. He knew she was fragile, and the Doctor was trying to be her support. _It’s called marriage._

That wasn’t it. She’d always known it would end. Nothing could last forever. She’d even attempted to prepare Amy for it. “She had to be with Rory. I tried to warn her, get her ready for what I always knew was coming… the day she’d have to say goodbye. She wrote books… about a little girl lost in New York. _Me_. I always knew.”

Eyes snapped back open, and he shifted in the bed with a sigh, tugging her even closer, if that were possible. She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It still stung. On his side of the bed lie an Agatha Christie book and her mother’s glasses. He’d kept them, to keep her with him, always. His first face. “You’re all I have left, River.”

“Of them?”

His bangs had fallen into his eyes, but she could see such determination in those pupils. “Of my family,” he corrected sternly. “My _wife_ … and I’m not letting you go. I won’t.”

River twisted in the bed to face him, dropping a hand over his chest once again. He kissed her cheek with such love and devotion that she almost choked on another sob. She was desperately clawing for control over emotions she couldn’t begin to fathom. This wasn’t her. She was stronger than this… _was_. Nothing felt the same, especially not her. Her world was shifting off it’s axis and she didn’t know why or how. She tried to focus on what she did know, to remember.

They were tucked away in the clouds, far from humanity, but still watching over them. In her mind’s eye she could see the Tardis among the clouds and a spiraling staircase. Their guardians remained below… friends. She could almost remember an argument. Vastra urging the Doctor to… what? Save? Help? He’d refused… whatever the case. For _her_? All this for her? Why couldn’t she remember? She felt it… sitting just out of reach. She could brush the edges of a memory, but the more she struggled the more it just slipped further and further away.

He’d taken her here to look after her. His mad wife. He’d stopped. The Doctor never stopped. “I don’t think I understand,” she admitted. She felt like half of herself, shredded and mixed about. Everything before the Library was clear. Those memories felt real and solid, but… different too. She could tell when points emerged or veered off course just a bit. Big moments were softer and less raw (especially between her and the Doctor). Her body surged with something she hadn’t felt since Mels and Berlin. Time energy and… awareness, but it burned so hot. Her past… not quite right, but solid enough to be acceptable. Everything else after the Library was twisted, curved… convex and concave. _Wrong._

It started with the Library. River took a deep breath and tried to calm the frustrations swelling in the pit of her stomach. Questions. She needed to ask questions. “What happened… at the Library?”

Again, such confusion in his eyes. “You don’t remember? We’ve talked about this before.”

She shook her head. What she remembered was fragmented and laced in times of what never happened… but should have… _must_ have. She died. She lived. 4022 souls saved. How? Two different ways. She remembered it twice.

He swallowed thickly, holding her gaze. “I didn’t know you, then. Our first time… you and me. You whispered my name in my ear, and told me to trust you. You helped me save those people.”

“ _How_? I need to remember how I did it,” she urged.

His lips curled in a proud smile then, getting lost in a fond memory. Fond… why was it fond? He was supposed to be sad. She remembered him sad. “You were amazing, River,” he spoke, unaware of her thoughts. “It was your idea to use the Doctor Moon.”

“I… I don’t follow.”

“We used the wi-fi connection between the Doctor Moon and CAL. It took quite a bit of reprogramming, but his memory banks were massive enough to be used as an external hard drive until we could cleanly download all those people out of the system. CAL was overwhelmed, beyond her limits, but not even the Doctor Moon could keep her aware. We had to literally rewrite coding, turn him into a giant secondary memory drive. It was your idea to implant the coding in a virus. We uploading it to CAL with your sonic screwdriver and the Doctor Moon immediately responded. Once that connection was made the virus code was launched and we managed to accomplish something that should have taken days… if not weeks in a very short amount of time. I don’t know how you did it, how you thought of that. Brilliant….”

_Wrong_. She remembered it… saving them, but she’d saved them twice. She died. Then she lived. “I… I survived.”

“Of course you did… you’re right here. I’m certainly not talking to a ghost… although that can happen. Your friends didn’t make it, but their data ghosts got caught up in the wi-fi and downloaded into CAL. I suppose that’s something, eh?”

River was trying to feel relieved, but none of it made any sense. The Doctor was looking at her with such concern, unaware of the two conflicting stories rolling around in her mind. One life lost. One life not lost. She was good, but she wasn’t _that_ good. “And that’s how you remember it?”

His frown deepened. “River… I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to trust me. I’m not sure why this is happening to you. I’m not sure why you keep rejecting what happened, but it’s the truth. The first day we met was in the Library, and I watched you save everyone. We brought everyone back and you were just standing there with this wide grin. I said-”

_“Need a lift?” the Doctor asked as Donna searched the faces of men and women walking past her, looking for something… or someone. She’d have lost herself in the crowd if her outfit weren’t so colorful amongst those dressed in black._

_River’s smile was wide and playful, standing just a bit too close, but he wasn’t pulling away. Remnants of her Doctor stared back down at her. Incomplete. Not quite hers, this man, but he’d get there in time. He looked lonely then… even when he had Donna. No one could ever keep up with him like River had, and he knew it. Last of the Time Lords, but there was hope staring back at her, and a theory forming that she wouldn’t confirm or deny if asked. “I get around on my own just fine.”_

_He smiled back. “I bet.” She’d turned around, planning on joining Mr. Lux who was busy sifting through the saved souls excitedly, when the Doctor reached to grab her arm and bring her back to him. He pulled her from the crowd, just around the corner towards biographies. Twelve hours before the shadows would return. There was a lot of work to be done, but the Doctor had questions. “You whispered my name, River… you whispered my name in my ear.”_

_She didn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the warmth of his hand wrapped around her wrist. It was gentle, not quite holding her hand, but she felt his thumb graze her pulse and she knew immediately what he was doing. She pulled her wrist away and stepped in closer till he stopped breathing. It gave her an edge, put him off balance. “Hush now,” she purred._

_He shook his head. “But there's only one reason I would ever tell anyone my name. There's only one time I could….”_

_Her eyes drifted down his face towards his lips, but it was far too soon for such things. Too young. River leaned up to press her lips against his cheek, tender and meaningful. “Spoilers,” she whispered._

River blinked, lost in the memory, and she felt her hearts skip a beat when his thumb touched her pulse just like his younger self had. Her hand closed into a fist against his chest. “Did you know… even then?”

His eyes darkened almost immediately. “Not until I touched you. You wouldn’t have pulled away unless you’d known what I was doing.”

“You were breaking the rules.” He slid closer then. Propping his head up with his other hand to look down at her. The hand around her wrist tugged it over to his lips. He kissed the inside of her wrist, and the sensation made her skin tingle. She drank in his expression, and it got a bit hard to breathe again. The way he looked at her, as if part of him didn’t believe it… couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was there, but he dismissed it. Like a perception filter, he saw what was wrong, but seemed content to ignore it. The doubt was passed by unnoticed. 

“My rules,” he finally said.

She cracked a smile as he leaned in closer. “You have far too many… not even you can keep up with them all.” He let her hand go so she could rest it against his cheek, and he immediately leaned into her touch.

“Just as long as you remember the important ones.”

His lips just barely touched hers before she pulled back. “Rule one?” For a moment she wondered, certain he was holding back, but his eyes looked genuine and serene. She could find nothing to fault him with. If it was a lie (what happened in the Library) he wasn’t in on it. He wasn’t a part of it. He was missing it. Unaware of it. Determined not to look in the corner of his eye… perception filter of the mind. It was the only way she could describe it. He didn’t want to see. He was desperate not to see. It was bizarre to see the Doctor so willing to accept the unacceptable.

He licked his lips, and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her, those lips so close to hers. She ached for him now, and he looked just as desperate for her. “Don’t wander off,” he spoke out loud (not the rule she’d been expecting). “That’s rule one,” he assured her. Before she could argue he took his fill of her lips and pressed her back into the mattress, slipping over on top. Her eyes shut tight when she realized how hard he was against her belly, his hands everywhere at once. There wasn’t a thing she could do to stop herself from indulging in his touch.

They made love in the clouds… high above England… away from everything and everyone. He’d taken her here to keep her safe, to heal this insanity that threatened to break her apart. He’d sacrificed his entire way of life just to see to her needs, because she was all that mattered. She was everything to him… all that he had left.

Down below it snowed, and mysteries were taking place. Clara was waiting. Time was waiting. He would have to face it all eventually, but not just yet. The Doctor was far too busy getting lost in River’s body. He made her beg. He made her cry. Best of all… he made her _scream_. Everything was unraveling, including River Song, but in that moment of pure unadulterated bliss… she didn’t care one bit.

****

To Be Continued


	2. Remember It Twice

_He didn’t cry._ The thought kept repeating in her head as she lay on her back staring at the ceiling, out of breath and wonderfully sore. The Doctor, so damned clever, was actually using sex to improve her focus. It kept her in the present, centered her thoughts and memories, and she wondered how long he’d been holding onto the theory since tucking the Tardis away in the clouds to deal with his mentally ill wife. In the wake of their activities was a single thought that wouldn’t stop. _He didn’t cry._

It was like seeing two walkways diverge, and knowing how each ended. While her body buzzed with endorphins that settled the panic and rejection over her conflicting memories (eased the burning along the edges of her mind), she made quick work to notice the differences. It was like putting two pictures beside one another and circling all the details that had changed. Notice what was missing. Notice what wasn’t right. Notice what remained the same. In the wake of orgasm she was finding her equilibrium. Damn him.

_He didn’t cry._

She remembered Darillium twice. It seemed significant that the Doctor didn’t cry. He took her to the singing towers with the same new suit and haircut. They danced beneath the towers that night. He loved to take her dancing. Her green dress shimmered under the stars, and although she’d always hated the blasted dress, the Doctor was right… it perfectly matched her eyes. Then the paths diverged from there. The sad eyes from before, became passionate and wanton, as if he were trying to make up for lost time in one night. Tears were never cried, but his smile had been overpowering just the same. In a world in which he never cried the Doctor felt… lighter. He shined just as brilliantly as ever, and held onto her just a little bit tighter. It was as if he knew he wouldn’t really have to let her go.

It had to be significant. She lives and he never cries. It ate at her. _Wrong._ Insanity was a symptom of a much bigger problem. Patchwork was all the Doctor seemed to be capable of. Patch up the cuts and tears of her mind, but eventually she would burst at the seams. It was becoming clear to her now that someone had meddled with time, but it was _her_ that had changed everything. Those ideas in the Library had been _hers_. Was it possible she’d rewritten her own timeline? And how? Why? It would explain so much, though. Dueling with powers beyond her scope was a sure and easy way of unraveling her own sanity. It had happened before… even to the Doctor once or twice. Time hadn’t stopped, but she’d messed with the natural order of things, and it was possible she was paying the price.

It didn’t explain the burning though… along the fringes of her mind. It had settled to a manageable ache, but it was unwavering and constant. It was a threat that loomed in the shadows, the place where her madness settled, but it waited. It skimmed along her conscious and held something far worse than the split of her memories. She could feel heat radiate from that place inside her. She’d been rewritten, but she had also been changed. She could feel it in her blood, in her bones, in every cell she was composed of. _Wrong._

River shivered as the Doctor’s hand traced the edges of a bruise along her hip. It’d turned an ugly shade of green and purple against her olive skin, but he seemed especially fascinated with it… perhaps because he had been the cause. He rarely marked her during lovemaking (usually out of fear of her parent’s noticing), but there was a first time for everything. She’d noticed that difference too.

The Doctor may not have seen it in himself, but she could spot the differences in him as well. In every point in time since the Doctor first met her… the weight that was ever present on his shoulders had been lifted and lighter than before. The tension between them was thin and bearable. He even gave in to her charms more eagerly. There was also something else lurking beneath the surface, a need and desire to keep her close. He was _careful_ and vigilant with her. He respected her skills, but his fear for her safety was overwhelming. It deeply concerned her. He’d changed the rules. His rule one. Don’t wander off.

It may have seemed like nothing to those that didn’t know the Doctor, but to her it spoke volumes. She distinctly remembered his first rule, _the Doctor lies_ , a significant part of their interactions with each other due to the spoilers they both kept. Their life of spoilers had not changed, but his most important rule _had_. A desperate need to keep her close that had nothing to do with her parent’s leaving, and seemed quite consistent in these newer memories. It was as if he was afraid and he didn’t know why. Afraid she would leave? Afraid he would lose her? No… something worse than that.

The Doctor was afraid of something he couldn’t even seem to remember. He clung to this universe and this timeline as if it were more precious than anything he’d ever known. _Don’t wander off._ The translation was clear in her heart and mind. The Doctor no longer knew how she was going to die. They were linear and without those nasty spoilers to withhold. They’d lost their security and the Doctor was afraid of what lay waiting in the unknown… their future. They’d never had one before.

River bit at the bottom of her lip hard when she felt wet lips press against the tender skin of her hip, over the bruise. She’d never seen him show such concentration with anything else, except perhaps the Tardis, and it was fascinating to watch. Did he even realize how unusual it was for them to be so… still? His attentions were overwhelming (perhaps even a bit suffocating), though she wasn’t complaining. She wasn’t even safe in her own mind anymore, and having him nearby settled her anxiety. She watched the way his eyes roved over the spot, absorbing details like Sherlock Holmes during a murder investigation.

A bruise. He may have been aware of it’s origin, but she could almost see the gears turning in his head. Rolling the evidence around in that brain of his as if it were a game. He was measuring the size of it, the pattern, the shape, how much pressure would be needed to sustain such a minor injury (were he to do it again). He was comparing it to his own palm and analyzing the results, a match of course (he should know… he put it there). She’d seen him do it a million times during adventures, but never for something as simple as a bruise.

“I had no idea marking me could be so fascinating for you,” she purred teasingly. She was trying to keep their conversation playful despite the heavy thoughts that plagued her mind, as if afraid he would see just how terrified she was. Hiding the damage, even now, in a universe in which there was no need to do so.

He rested his chin against her abdomen, and his gaze remained fixed on her hip. He looked especially pleased with himself when his lips curled into a smile. “Everything about you is fascinating, River Song.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and moved her hand through his longer than normal locks of hair. He was badly in need of a haircut, but at least he’d continued shaving. She pushed away the fringe, his bangs, from falling over his face and hiding away those expressive eyes. Ever since their wedding day on top of the pyramids she’d consciously and unconsciously taken comfort in what she saw in those eyes. They’d always told the stories he could never say out loud.

The Doctor kissed her bruise one last time, and she squeezed her thighs as heat pooled in her belly before he travelled up the length of her body to look at her properly. He held her gaze, unwaveringly. There was nothing hidden away in those youthful eyes (for once). They damn near sparkled. That wasn’t to say she didn’t see _anything_ buried away and out of sight (the pain of guilt rarely left him even on good days).

His remorse over Gallifrey and what (didn’t) actually happen. Oh yes, River remembered _that_ little discovery quite clearly. She’d found several of the Doctor’s paintings, like clues, hidden through time, and waiting to be collected (or stolen). River Song prided herself in being a very supportive wife. Who better than Elizabeth I to keep watch over them? That encounter had been a tiny bit awkward. It was quite possible she was the reason the queen despised the Doctor so much.

Honestly, there’d been no need for jealousy. The Doctor had enough wives to fill the Grand Canyon. Accidental marriages, perhaps, but he never stuck around long enough to get them reversed. There was a part of her (deep inside) that had often wondered if she were just like the others… another wife… another accident. Those fears died off quickly the day he revealed to her his name. She well knew the significance of that.

“You’re dangerous this quiet,” she remarked finally with a sigh.

The Doctor was currently resting his massive chin on her left breast while his fingers drew invisible pictures across her beating hearts. If she focused on his touch she was certain she could discover just exactly what he was drawing, but considering that wicked gleam in his eyes, she could already guess. “And what would you like me to say?” he questioned.

There was plenty on her mind, though she hesitated to share such thoughts with him. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with her concerns, but perhaps she wasn’t the only one feeling… fragile. He was a Time Lord, a proper one, who had seen the end of everything as well as the beginning. He _had_ to have realized by now what was happening to her (at least some of it). Did he simply not care? Had he played a role in what’d changed? If so, how? “Tell me about Darillium. Why give me your sonic screwdriver?”

In seconds his smile disappeared, his fingers ceased their masterpiece across her chest, and he rolled away onto his back beside her. So he was hiding something. He had to be. “Because I didn’t have any red settings or dampers at that time,” he replied with a groan. “I was _trying_ to be helpful.”

_Wrong._ That word continued to repeat in her mind on a loop, and it was enough to make her scream. It was no wonder the Master had lost his mind, considering the drumming going round and round in his head. Was that what she’d turn into next? The Silence and everything they’d done to her (she was fine), but one word that never stopped repeating in her brain and she’d be off the walls and shattered? It was a sobering thought, because she knew she was ever so capable of becoming _that_. She almost had, if not for the Doctor, if not for her parents and all they’d done to help her break her conditioning.

The Doctor linked her hand in his as they lay there in bed. Husband and wife. Side by side. What a pair they made. She said nothing. It was clear he was holding back, but River didn’t have the strength to fight him about it. Eventually not even he could endure the tension. He let out a huff, and his grip on her hand tightened. She waited for him to speak again… the truth this time. “I wanted you to feel like I was with you.”

River frowned, twisting her neck to look at him. It wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting, but it never was that simple with _him_. His eyes were trained on the ceiling while his right hand seemed to swing about as if it had a mind of it’s own. His left hand refused to let go of her (in case she might wander off). “With me?”

“I knew how hard it was for you, River. Those were days before you meant anything to me. I saw you. I looked _through_ you. I was giving you up to a man with no idea how important you were to me, and I wanted you to remember that you’re not alone. I wanted you to remember that you weren’t forgotten,” he confessed quietly. “It was a piece of our future to remind you of your worth.”

She was left speechless in the wake of his words. For a moment his eyes grew so ancient and tired, as if he was reflecting on all the lifetimes of mistakes ever made (including the ones he never could have prevented). It wasn’t like… it hadn’t hurt. The Doctor was her husband. She loved him. She treasured him. To watch him carry on as if she were nothing but another face in his travels had been an agony she could never imagine or explain. “I told myself that I whispered your name to get you to trust me,” she finally spoke, ignoring the way her voice wavered. “In the end I think I just wanted you to _see_ me.”

His smile lacked any real joy. “It worked.”

At what cost? Knowing his secrets was a privilege she’d treasured. It had made her feel powerful in a universe that had shoved her out of sync with his timeline… just out of reach. She couldn’t control when they would meet or how, but his secrets were _hers_. She’d kept them safe, and honored their significance. Now she wondered if she’d ever really had any control at all. Even _that_ (his secrets) screamed of pre-destiny and fate. She despised those words in the wake of what they’d done to her.

“I didn’t tell you my name because I was supposed to, River.”

She lost the will to breathe when he spoke, not quite sure how he’d known what she was thinking. “How can I believe that?”

He turned to look back at her, so incredibly calm… confident. He was only ever confident when he felt in control of a situation… or had a plan. “Because I’m right _here_. I _want_ to be here. And I’m not going anywhere.” His other hand pulled her down till their lips could meet and despite their position it was _him_ that took charge. The kiss was wet and overpowering. He tasted of tea, and life, and time. He let go of her hand and buried them both in her hair, deepening the kiss. She could feel him massage her scalp even as his tongue slipped into hers for a little exploring. She welcomed the intrusion whole-heartedly.

Eventually, he pulled away with a sharp in-take of breath. It took her a moment to realize he was panting heavily. River rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Sweetie, you really must learn how to breathe when we kiss.”

She almost laughed to see that wicked look in his eyes, reminding her that despite the changes, he was still _him_. “Can’t help myself, dear… you take my breath away.” His attempt at flirting would always be especially amusing to her. River could never resist his horrible charms. She leaned down for another kiss, snogging him even harder than before, if that were possible. It was him. It was them. She remembered this. It was the only thing in her life that hadn’t shifted or diverged. The Doctor and River Song. At least she could have this.

River rather enjoyed taking control this time around, establishing the pace, climbing over him, and demanding he behave. He didn’t argue. His hand touched her hip, over the bruise and he held on so tight it almost hurt. He wouldn’t let go, and she didn’t really want him to. His mouth tasted her skin, whispered promises against her breast, begged her not to leave him. She didn’t say a word; couldn’t make promises that were impossible to keep, but it didn’t matter… he already knew. She distracted him with her body. It was wet and messy, desperate and fast, but certainly enough to leave them both satisfied and wonderfully _alive_. He cut off her cries with his lips, and his hips jerked as he followed her into bliss. The burning ache settled even more in her mind. She almost felt _normal_ now, but she knew it wouldn’t last.

River couldn’t have been bothered to move, collapsing right on top of him, boneless. They both took their time to catch their breath, but her mind was already abuzz with questions. “How did you know?”

“Hmmm?” His voice was so rough. He had no idea what he did to her.

“How did you know that the sex would help me from spiraling?” she asked against the crook of his neck, enjoying his warmth, and being held in his arms. Something so rare should always be cherished.

She felt the rumble of his laugh, and focused her gaze on the freckles on his chest. Not entirely the most impressive physique, but she was quite fond of this body… lanky frame and all. “Endorphins are neurotransmitters. It’s a natural analgesic. Whatever it is burning away in your brain, River… it’s the endorphins we release that seem capable of putting out the fire, at least temporarily. I’m… medicating you. It’s all purely scientific,” he insisted, smugly.

She was quite certain of that, but it didn’t stop her laughing as she realized he’d stumbled on an answer completely by accident (much like everything else). “How long did it take you to figure that one out?” she questioned, trying so hard not to laugh as he squirmed underneath her.

“Just… a few… weeks… or more! I figured it out, can’t we all just focus on that! It works, and you’re getting better!” Was she better? River forced herself to focus on him, enjoy this _thing_ between them, probably the most normal conversation they’d had since the Library. She set aside her fears for what lay dormant. She would focus on now; on keeping firm hold of her sanity for as long as she could. She buried her face in his neck to laugh, and he pinched her ribs in retribution. “Oh shut up!”

“Make me,” she replied, as usual.

She lifted her head just in time to see fond eyes staring back at her. “Give me time, dear… I’ve been _trying_.”

She swatted at his chest and rolled from over him, enjoying this moment for as long as it would last. As much as she relished the Doctor’s solution to her problem, it was only a quick fix (hardly a solution they could live with). Eventually, she’d need another way of dealing with whatever it was currently ripping at her sanity. Beside her the Doctor was smiling wide, a moment of pure joy… just _happy_. Genuine and real. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him that serene in the path that had led to her death. That was the biggest difference of them all. _Wrong,_ her mind supplied, but for once she didn’t agree.

*~*~*

It didn’t take long for River to get restless. She was built for running and adventures. She was built for combat and trouble. She was _not_ , however, built to stay in bed all day recovering from something she could barely remember. It had taken her most of the day to realize she wouldn’t be remembering much of what happened after she left the Library. The fleeting images of her screaming and crying in agony were unsettling to say the least, but that wasn’t the half of it. Words tumbling out of her mouth that didn’t make sense and the look of utter despair in the Doctor’s eyes as he tried to calm her. She’d nearly attacked him, would have certainly inflicted damage, had he not found a way to sedate her. To be reminded of all that was more than enough to keep her moving and her mind occupied. She just wished she knew what else to think about.

River couldn’t stop thinking about the Silence. Most of what they’d done to her was deleted from her memory, but those were just holes of a bigger picture. She often shrugged off what she didn’t know about those moments. They were just a jumbled mess of blurred images and whispers in the darkness. It’d taken several years for her to realize she didn’t _want_ to remember. The best course of action was to unlearn their programming. She started new at Luna University (or had certainly tried to). Those years studying history, studying the Doctor’s life, were memories she could never trade. For the first time she was seeing this man with new eyes and new understanding. He wasn’t evil or wicked as the Silence wanted her to believe. Those years at Luna taught her that the Doctor was beautiful, the most beautiful man she could ever know… and she fell in love.

It would be evening soon. She wasn’t tired, of course, but she knew there had to be _some_ way to occupy her time, perhaps in the pursuit of discovering the cause of her insanity. It was obvious something had been done to her, but the question of _what_ and by _whom_ remained unanswered. It was something she preferred to solve on her own, a bit tired of the observant eyes of her husband. Speaking of which….

“I’ve already told you, those times are over.”

River quirked an eyebrow and followed the Doctor’s voice, peeking into the control room to see him on the telephone. He looked less than pleased with whoever he was chatting with, and she couldn’t help noticing he wasn’t entirely dressed. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone else was around, although eventually she was certain clothes would be necessary for them both.

“For god’s sake Vastra, you’ve got Doctor Doyle _himself_ writing novels about you and Jenny! I’m certain you can sort out the issue yourself… in fact, I’m confident you can. Full confidence. You’ll be brilliant.” The Doctor sighed, rubbing his forehead. “No… no… I don’t need Strax to come and get me. I’m not going anywhere! I’m busy!”

She watched his jaw drop as if slighted, though it wasn’t too hard to do that. Vastra was especially good at riling him up. River rather liked that about her, probably shouldn’t, but she did. It was always refreshing to watch the Doctor’s friends keeping him on his toes. 

“What do you mean ‘with what?’ For the last time, there will be no investigating! You’re perfectly capable of sorting out this business with the snow.”

She almost smiled when his face got all red, and he was scratching the back of his head. “That’s… none of your business,” he muttered. “Okay… hanging up now… go be brilliant! Make me proud!”

River watched him hang up the phone in a huff, and her smile faded quickly. Vastra needed his help. Their friends needed the Doctor and it was River’s fault that he was refusing to come to Vastra’s aid. Her husband… too busy with the burden of his wife… holding him back from all the amazing things he could be up to. How many times had she told herself the reason he was worth killing was because of moments like these… the times when he didn’t come… when he didn’t save them all? Her studies at Luna had proven without a doubt the Doctor cared. He’d touched so many lives, helped so many people when he could. She looked upon her Doctor now… standing still (because of her). She wasn’t sure she could bear to see any more of that.

*~*~*

_I am splintering. The sensation burns inside my mind like wildfire. I am being rewritten. My time. My life. I am diverging. I am changing. Every cell. The burning. I see too much. I see size and weight, and it’s pressing against my skull with unending pressure. Why doesn’t he notice? How can he not notice? Something’s happened to me, and the weight of it is tearing me apart. Wrong. My life, this life… **wrong**. I see. I **see**. It’s happening all at once and I see **everything**. I am splintering… no… **she** is splintering. Oh god… it’s her! I see her! Make him go! Make him run! The impossible girl! Find her!_

“River?”

River’s head shot up, and she shut her diary as if she’d just been caught peeping at something not meant for her eyes. It was her that wrote those words, like a secret passage to help her remember. It was a window into her madness; though she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw. “Yes sweetie?” she answered, slightly breathless from the intensity of her own words in the diary. They stuck with her long after she’d stopped reading. She felt all of it even now, and the burning was starting to come back. 

She’d snuck away from him hours ago to find a quiet place to read. The console room was far too dark, and the lights were uninviting. She wasn’t fond of his current desktop, and she wasn’t sure why he’d changed it. ‘ _You’ve redecorated… I don’t like it._ ’ She bit her lip to hide a secret smile, not quite sure who had spoken those words. She remembered them anyway.

The library of the Tardis, ironic considering her loss of sanity while visiting the largest library in the universe, had been the best choice for reading. She’d known it was a risk when she’d entered, that she could possibly be triggering herself. He would surely be concerned that the reminders would send her into another psychotic episode. “Are you… okay?” he questioned.

His pants were black, with a fresh white dress shirt, vest, and matching bowtie (the one from their wedding day). She schooled her features as well as she could, but she felt a bit out of practice after months without control. Her cream colored blouse hung low (teasing him with cleavage), and she watched his eyes wander for a moment before he focused on her eyes again. He’d been tinkering to pass the time, to give her some space, but it seemed not even he was capable of giving her _all_ the time she needed. “Do I seem okay?” she asked, hoping her reasoning would settle his concerns.

He shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding her gaze briefly. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had moments of… rationality.”

Her memories after the Library were still fairly blurred and chaotic. She wondered how long she would last like this. She couldn’t avoid sleep forever, and sex was only a temporary fix. Eventually she would dream (lose control), and that would be more than enough to send her spiraling once again. River’s legs were folded under her, tucked beneath the flowing skirt that matched her blouse. Her fingers picked at the threading around the edges, worn from frequent use. “I was just doing a bit of reading… trying to make sense of things,” she confessed.

He shoved idle hands into his pockets and walked inside the room. “You’re trying to avoid me.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped in frustration. His jaw tightened for a moment and he sighed. One hand ran through his hair (which he still hadn’t bothered to cut). He kneeled down across from her, legs folded, and hands in his lap. “Isn’t this what husbands do? Look after the wife when she’s in… a bad state of mind?”

“Mad.”

She saw the way he almost cringed at that word. “You’ve always been a bit mad, dear,” he teased, in a desperate attempt to ease tension.

River was more than happy to play along. She laughed quietly. “Says the mad man with a box….”

He was smiling back at her, but the shadows around his eyes remained. His eyes fixed on her even as she looked away, staring at her diary. She could see him wringing out his hands, so eager to be busy… and instead all he did was remain still. For _her_. Vastra had urged him to help her with something… to investigate. He’d turned her down adamantly, insisting that he had more important things to worry about than snow. She was starting to remember… just bits and pieces. Her stomach was in knots just thinking about it.

“I’m not a child, you know.”

“I know you’re not.”

“You hover over me like I am,” she pointed out. Her eyes were stern, an attempt to scold him for turning his back on their friends. Bangs fell into his eyes, and he flicked his hair back into place. He looked like such a teenager when he did that.

“What do you expect me to do? Ignore the fact that you’re suffering?”

As old as that man was, those eyes were often far too young for her liking. He had no idea what to do, that much was obvious. She could see into his very core, and he wasn’t even trying to hide the yearning… desperate to heal his wife… solve her like he did everything else. Clever words and a plan on the fly. It wasn’t that easy. He wasn’t good at this part and neither was she. 

It’d become increasingly clear that they could never hope to match the relationship their parents had. It wasn’t that they loved each other any less. She’d stopped time for him. He’d stopped running for her (a wonder perhaps even more impressive). Their love was just as powerful, and just as terrifying. Only… Rory and Amy were human. They knew how to settle, be normal, be human. Neither River nor the Doctor was any good at that (could never be good at that). In fact, they were positively rubbish at it.

“I expect you to be you, my love. We aren’t my parents. You don’t have to wait two thousand years for me, protecting me from the world. I never needed that.”

The Doctor huffed, looking away. “I wasn’t!” She shot him a look of pure disbelief. “I’m not!” he insisted. “I’m just… trying to be what you deserve.”

River shook her head. “Oh honey, you never had to try.”

His eyes settled on her diary for a moment, his fingers picking at his cuticles out of habit and nervous energy. “Maybe… I’m not just doing this for you.”

The thought had occurred to her. She just wasn’t expecting him to ever admit it. “Then you’re a coward.”

His head snapped up, eyes immediately ablaze with indignation. “ _I’m_ a coward?! Really, River?! I’m a coward for wanting to be close to you? I’m a coward for wanting to give you the attention you deserve when I can _see_ what you’re going through? You don’t even remember what you were like when you came to me! I’ve lost your parents and so many others, and I won’t do it anymore! I won’t! This entire universe can burn for all I care, just as long as you’re still breathing, because there’s plenty others to choose from! I’ve already lost enough!”

River wanted to throw something at him. She wanted to throw him out of the Tardis and off their cloud till he hit the earth with a satisfying crunch. Her mind was just barely cooperating with the shift in her own time-stream and the burning in her skull. She was losing all grip with reality because she couldn’t process or withstand being written and unwritten like heavily revised editions of a novel. The two timelines were struggling for dominance in her mind, tangling, and she couldn’t keep it straight in her head because not all of it was _hers_. Not all of it was memories she’d lived. It burned, and waited, and threatened her sanity constantly. She was struggling with enough, and she couldn’t deal with this on top of it.

She pulled away, snatching her diary as she rose. The Doctor was immediately on her heels. “River!” Even now he wouldn’t go. “River, stop this!”

She twirled around with the swing of her hand, and watched with satisfaction as it made contact with his face. His head jerked to the side, cheek already bright red, and she observed his struggle to calm the boiling rage that came whenever she assaulted him. “If you want to be selfish, do as you please. You usually do,” she growled. “But don’t you _dare_ involve me in it! You want to talk about losing something?! Keep this up, and I can assure you… you will _know_ loss!”

She turned back around before he could reply and left him stunned and stung to the core. River Song had fallen in love with the Doctor ages and ages ago, once. She’d been so young. She would never consider it a mistake (not ever), but she wouldn’t stand being embarrassed by his selfishness any more than he’d withstood it from her. She would find a way to achieve peace within herself regardless of what had been done to her in time, without the Doctor’s help… or his attempt at patchwork.

It took an hour before she saw him again and neither spoke to the other at first. They didn’t kiss or make up like Rory and Amy would have, instead he did something better. She watched the Doctor quietly stand in front of the mirror dissatisfied. Eventually he turned to the wardrobe nearby in a search for something. He fished out his favorite new overcoat and discovered the most ridiculous hat that he could possibly dig up (absolutely horrible) and turned to present himself to her. She’d have to resist the urge to destroy the hat, because for once it seemed to fit with the rest of his look. He smoothed out his shirt and vest, staring back at her… waiting. “How do I look?”

There was only one answer he’d accept. “Amazing,” she replied.

**To Be Continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be Saturday if I can manage. I've got a bit of editing to do before I'm happy with these chapters. As you can probably tell this story goes (just a bit) into 'The Snowmen' next. I already have ideas of turning it into a series and doing a bit of rewriting for 'The Name of the Doctor' and going further into the Christmas special. I think you guys might enjoy, but I wanted to keep this story short just in case no one was interested. lol
> 
> Fair warning... in the next chapter you'll be seeing one of River's episodes. Thought I should prepare you guys for that!


	3. The Outside Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is mostly focused on River's perspective, but I thought it was important for a special chapter dedicated to those watching River from the outside.

The snowmen. Unlike anything her simple eyes had ever seen before. Not even a quick mind could have prepared her for this. Snowmen with teeth, hungry… and alien. She’d already seen far too much outside of the normal scope that had been her reality, and she stood with wide eyes as they grew closer to her, and so very threatening. _Stop thinking about the Snowmen!_ He’d spouted words like telepathic, and in the back of her mind she realized they were here (and alive) because of her. They were gaining strength from the pictures of her mind, and she wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He was.

Warm hands clasped her face, drawing her attention away from the danger around them. His words were spoken carefully, and with urgency. Determination and curiosity (an instinct she found difficult to comprehend) had brought her to this man… and now she’d have to trust him too. “You're caught in their telepathic field. They're mirroring you. The more you think about the snowmen, the more they appear. Imagine them melting. Picture it. Picture them mel-”

The blast of water splashed against them in seconds, drenching them both in the miserable cold. Her eyes shut and she shivered as cold winds turned her skin numb in an instant. “Well, very good,” he whispered, but she shook her head.

“I… I didn’t do that,” she insisted when a strange noise drew their attention from each other.

Puddles of water, snow, and ice beneath their feet, but Clara immediately stiffened at the sight of the woman standing there in the alleyway with wide eyes and metal in her hand. A green light flickered at the very end of what suspiciously looked like the barrel of a weapon, but she’d never seen anything like it before. She looked even more drenched than Clara, with wild blonde curls, and not nearly enough clothes in such a bitter cold. A simple cream colored blouse with a matching skirt, the outfit was like nothing she’d seen before, and it shimmered like silk. 

“River?” Clara watched, desperately trying to stop shaking as the strange Doctor left her in an instant to grab what had surely been a weapon of some kind. He knew her… the strange woman. He didn’t look very pleased as he tucked away the weapon and forced her to look at him. “River… what are you doing?”

She looked unfocused, eyes still wide, trembling… soaked to the bone. Clara watched as the Doctor touched her face, trying to draw her attention, but she closed her eyes and refused to look at him, shaking her head vigorously. “Wrong, wrong, wrong… not supposed to be here. Save her! Must save!”

Clara saw it. Sad eyes as he tried in vain to pull her back into focus. He whispered her name several times, rubbing at her arms to keep her warm as chilling winds blew. “Please… River.” She didn’t miss the way his voice cracked when he spoke the other woman’s name. This… River… was important to him, another stranger like the… creature he called Strax. Who _was_ he?! Who was she?! And what in god’s name was going on with the snow?

“Sir! The boy with the big head! He’s escaped!” Strax stalled as he turned the corner and saw the Doctor holding a broken woman in his arms.

“Thank you, Strax!” the Doctor growled with frustration, turning his attention back to River. “River… I need you to focus… what were you doing? Why did you leave the Tardis?”

Tardis? Clara saw, but could not comprehend. The chill made it difficult to breathe, and her wet clothes made it impossible to shield herself from the wind. She wanted an explanation. She wanted desperately to understand this man, and she couldn’t figure out why. She was supposed to be here. She had to help him, but who was he? Where had he come from? _Doctor who?_ “Doctor?”

The Doctor glanced back towards her and stiffened immediately, as if he’d forgotten all about Clara. He rolled his eyes and huffed angrily before turning back to the woman he had a firm hold of. “Strax! For god’s sake, could you _please_ make yourself useful?!”

Clara shrieked in surprise as the… man (creature… potato head) gripped her arm roughly. “Sir, would you like me to exterminate this boy?!”

“Oi!” she shouted in offense, half forgetting his confusion with genders. _Typical middle child of six million._ “Get your genders right!”

Strax rolled his tiny brown eyes dramatically. “ _Girl_ ,” he corrected.

River tugged away from the Doctor, still refusing to meet his gaze. “No!” she cried loudly, struggling. “This isn’t how it happens! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Fix it! Fix this! Run, clever boy, run!” The Doctor desperately tries to calm her when she doubles over in pain, one hand rubbing at her temple. “It burns….”

Clara’s eyes grew wide as the Doctor pulled her back to him and held her tight against his chest. He’d been so confident up until River showed up, even knew things about the snow that were beyond her understanding, but this was different. The mad woman… she made him helpless and lost. He could solve the riddle of the snow, but not _her_. Were they connected? Her and the snow? Was she responsible for whatever was creating them? The Doctor shook his head as River tucked into his jacket for warmth, whispering words over and over, muffled by his shirt. “Strax… just… take her home. I’ll deal with River.”

Clara could feel Strax pull her, but she struggled out of his hold. “What about the snow? Shouldn't we be warning people?”

Again River pulled from his grip, and Clara lost all speech as green eyes connected with hers. “Tell me you feel it. It’s different now… tell me you notice! You save him! You always save him! He _has_ to remember you!”

The Doctor gripped River from behind and his eyes seemed to blaze with frustration. “Strax! Into the carriage, take her home, NOW!” he insisted coldly.

Clara could never resist a good mystery, but she went willingly this time as Strax pulled her away. He shoved her _harshly_ into the Doctor’s carriage, but she went slipping out the other side the moment he’d gotten on and pulled away. The Doctor didn’t see her, but she kept her eyes on him. She followed him as he guided the mad woman, trying so hard to look inconspicuous. Luckily for him, there weren’t enough people so late in the evening, and those who did notice weren’t too keen to investigate. River was half struggling away from him, but he refused to let her go.

“River… come on, now… don’t do this to me,” he urged her, struggling to keep her focused on walking as he led her through the park.

She looked panicked, shaken. “The snowmen… I can sense them… I can sense him. This is where it begins! Everything in motion! Came to warn, and now it’s wrong! I… I stepped out for a second… oh god, it hurts.” River swayed against the Doctor, but he immediately picked her up, rushing through the park, a mad dash towards the fence. He managed to get them both over to the other side before he finally paused at a nearby tree and pressed her against it, cupping her face. Clara remained as close as she could without being seen, watching the two with wide eyes. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had. This woman was mad. She spoke things more unfathomable than the Doctor’s words.

The Doctor pressed his forehead against hers, and his hat tipped back almost falling off. “River, focus on my voice. I think the telepathic field is restricting your ability to remain lucid. You _must_ fight it! You’ve got to hold on. You’ll be okay once you’re back in the Tardis. I don’t know how the hell you got down here, but we’ve got to get you back home, okay? Please… just please focus on my voice! I am right here, River.”

Clara gasped as he learned forward to kiss the woman. His body covered hers, pressing her further into the tree as he captured her lips roughly. River didn’t fight him. She gripped his jacket with both hands. Clara couldn’t turn away, overwhelmed with questions and so few answers, completely perplexed. Some strange force driving her to know this man… to understand what was happening, and she couldn’t explain it. The Doctor needed her help.

Eventually he pulled away, kissing her cheek, and searching out her eyes. “River?”

River swallowed hard, nodding. “You sense it too?”

His thumb slid affectionately over her cheek as he nodded. “The snow is reflecting thoughts and memories… and it seems to have amplified your own. Tell me exactly what you’re feeling, River? What exactly is it doing to you?”

River dipped her head back against the tree and closed her eyes. The Doctor’s body remained pressed against hers, intimately. “Two paths. They reject each other in my mind, Doctor. I’m splintering… but it’s more than that. The fire in my mind… of the future and the past. I… I see her slip into your lives through the tear of time. Born to save you… over and over again… strewn across your lives from beginning to end. She will fall, my love, she will fall and you will not be able to catch her. This is where it starts. She’s falling… Clara!” River groaned and gasped, eyes snapping open. “What’s happening to me?!”

Her eyes widened for a second, worried she’d been seen, but she hadn’t. How had the mad woman known her name? She’d shouted Clara’s name. The Doctor didn’t react. Clara only saw sad eyes. He was faced with something just as mysterious as the snow, but this didn’t excite him like the snowmen had. This only brought him pain… despair. He kissed her forehead and took her hand. “I’m going to figure this out, River… I promise you. I promise!” he assured her, pulling her to him. He held her tight, and Clara realized then that he was crying. The Doctor _knew_ what was happening to the snow. He didn’t know what was happening to this mad woman… to River. It was breaking him apart….

*~*~*

Jenny Flint didn’t like to voice opinions. She preferred to keep her observations to herself. Through her companionship with Vastra, she’d seen more than she could have ever imagined possible, grown stronger and wiser with each new experience. She couldn’t help wondering how Rory and Amy would feel watching their daughter now. No one knew what was wrong with her, but it was certainly painful to watch… worse for the Doctor. She’d been certain he’d never help them with River Song so completely lost, trapped in whatever nightmares were pulling at her mind.

She’d been there from the very beginning of River, back on Demon’s Run. She knew who and what River Song was. River was strong. She was a survivor. She held together while _others_ fell apart. This was the same woman that’d been torn from her parents (and oh how she’d watched her parents struggle with that). Jenny had seen pain, experienced it enough for herself, but when the world separated from her… she’d always had her mind. She’d found solace within herself when everyone told her she was _wrong_ … _different_. She couldn’t imagine having to cope with losing the one thing she relied on most aside from her wife. At least River had the Doctor, like Jenny had Vastra, but was that enough?

River’s smile was tight as she looked up at Jenny. “I’m sorry… if I did anything to impede your investigation,” she whispered, setting aside the Tardis blue diary. They were in the Doctor’s Tardis… the control room. River sat by the console, against the bars, staring off into space, at nothing in particular. It had taken several hours for the Doctor to bring River back from the brink, and even longer for Jenny and Vastra to convince him that if someone stayed behind, River would be safe.

“You’re the one that helped convince him to even bother. He’s helping because of you,” Jenny insisted as she sat nearby. In the end the choice was made, and Vastra had requested she stay behind to look after River. Who better than her, someone who could show compassion and understanding? Jenny’s lips curled at the compliment her wife had given her. “What happened down there wasn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. I left the Tardis because I couldn’t stand the burning in my head. I was desperate for the cold, anything to stop this fire boiling inside, and then… I lost it. I can’t even remember most of it. I just lost my grip with reality out there. It slipped through my fingers like tiny particles of sand.” Her eyes swelled with unshed tears and Jenny was by her side in seconds. She placed a hand over River’s, felt her grip it with gratitude. It was all she could really provide at this point. No one could possibly understand what River was struggling with. “I could be like this forever.”

“The Doctor will fix it,” Jenny insisted. She had faith in him. He’d saved her life, and so many others. He solved the unexplainable every day, astounding all who knew him. His friends were loyal to him because he never stopped _trying_. “The Doctor loves you more than anyone in this universe. It would destroy him to let you down.”

River’s smile was brutally wretched and without hope. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Jenny was afraid of that too….

*~*~*

Madame Vastra would not have expected the events that would follow when she’d requested the Doctor’s assistance with her case regarding the snow. She did not regret bringing him in to help investigate, but the matter remained that another innocent life had been lost in the process, and the Doctor was taking it hard. There was already far too much weighing down his ancient mind… and then Clara (bright and curious) had fallen to her death. They’d tried to help her hold on. It hadn’t been enough. She’d been too far gone.

The funeral had ended some time ago, but the Doctor had yet to summon the nerve to say his goodbye to the young girl that’d helped him save the world. The random bouquet flowers he’d bought from a street vender shifted from hand to hand and every once in a while he’d smell them just to check and make sure they were fresh. The children and their father remained by the grave to weep over their fallen governess.

The Doctor believed Clara’s death to be his fault, that somehow he was responsible. He may not be a human... (once she’d called them apes… how times changed), but in his grief… Vastra believed, he identified with _them_ better than anyone. Or perhaps, like herself, he simply saw all the potential they had. “And what about the Intelligence? Melted with the snow?”

“No, I shouldn't think so. It learned to survive beyond physical form,” the Doctor answered, staring off towards Clara’s grave, eyes fixed on the family that was saying ‘goodbye.’ The children wouldn’t stop crying. The Doctor would not forgive himself for that either, she was sure. Children should never be so sad during Christmas.

Jenny stood on the other side of the Doctor, with her keen mind always at work. “Well, we can't be in much danger from a disembodied Intelligence that thinks it can invade the world with snowmen.”

Vastra nodded in agreement. “Or that the London Underground is a key strategic weakness.”

The Doctor slipped the flowers to his other hand, pulling out a single card… the card of their fallen enemy. “The Great Intelligence. Rings a bell. The Great Intelligence.” Eventually the Doctor’s eyes roved the ground, pausing at other graves, unable to bear the family’s grief any longer. As it was he was struggling with his own grief over his wife, River Song.

Strax had been left to keep an eye on her while they paid respects, fearing she might have another episode. He was under strict orders to keep her inside the Tardis, without the use of force, because one always had to clarify these things with _him_. River’s mental state was unpredictable, at best. It was quite possible she would never be the fearsome warrior they’d all come to respect. His burden of her care was great, and she did not envy him… or what possible struggles he would endure. The part the snow played in amplifying River’s condition was especially worrisome. Her eyes caught Jenny, knowing she would need a moment with the Doctor in private, and her beloved immediately understood the silent plea.

“I think I ought to express my condolences to the family,” she remarked, taking the Doctor’s flowers before she walked swiftly towards Clara’s grave and the family their governess had so _dearly_ loved and cared for.

The Doctor was never keen on expressing his feelings or fears, not even to them, but that did not mean she would let him off quite so easily. “And what of River Song, Doctor? Her mental state is of great concern, is it not? The telepathic field that controlled this snow revealed something… _new_ ,” she noted.

He continued to avoid her gaze, stubbornly, quite easily done when her face was hidden by her veil. His hands clenched into fists (the Great Intelligence’s card crumbled up inside) and he shoved both hands into his pockets and out of sight. “Something has happened to her timeline. I think it was changed, and I… can’t seem to remember… only she knows what happens. It’s worse than that though. Even Amy could withstand two conflicting timelines in her mind. It’s almost as if….” He shook his head dismissively.

“River Song is not _completely_ human,” Vastra pointed out with understanding. “It’s possible what we believe to be madness is far more dangerous than we realized. Her mind is burning, Doctor, and I know you’ve witnessed something similar to this before. The question is… will it kill her?”

The Doctor finally lifted his gaze back to the family standing over Clara’s grave. He watched silently as Jenny comforted the children with all the warmth and kindness she possessed, gentle hugs for both the girl and the boy. Vastra was often amazed that someone who had suffered so much hardship could have anything good left to give this harsh world. Jenny, was indeed, more special to her than anyone. She knew the Doctor’s love for River Song was perhaps even stronger through the centuries of married life shared between them. He would do anything; sacrifice anything, to save his River. She would never fault him on matters of the heart. It was something not even her mind could fully comprehend to the full.

Eventually the Doctor turned to look at Vastra. He was not guarded or resistant. Instead his eyes were curious. “If it were Jenny… how far would you go to save her?” he asked, quietly.

Vastra might have flushed were she human. She held his eyes, unwaveringly. She need not take time to think upon her answer. It was something she’d come to terms with the moment she’d taken Jenny as her wife. “Farther than my wife would ever approve of… farther than I should like. I lost my sister… as you well know, and it is an agony I would not willingly experience again.”

The Doctor’s nod was telling. “I’m angry that I lost Clara. I shouldn’t have. She was under my care and protection. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to her, but if I lost River… if I lost her…” he paused, as if terrified to finish his thought.

“What?” Vastra urged. She was certain she already knew the answer.

He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. “If I lost her… I’d stop. I’d fall and keep falling, and it would take a bloody miracle to bring me back up from the dark.”

There was a threat in those words. A threat to the universe itself, and all those who lived in it. What would become of this world were the Doctor to stop saving it? What would become of everyone without him to stand and face the monsters and shadows that wanted nothing more than to watch the universe burn? If he stopped, Vastra had no doubt that it would be the end of everything. If he gave in, it was possible there would be nothing left. She would hate to live in a world in which the Doctor lost hope… what a dark world that would be.

The moment of silence between them was heavy. They watched as the family, father and children, finally left Clara’s grave hand in hand. Jenny remained, reading the carving on the stone. Vastra opened her mouth to encourage him forward, but noticed a glimmer in his eye. She’d seen that look enough times before. A thought, a detail that nearly every other mind would miss, every other mind but _his_. “She said this would happen.”

“Doctor?” Vastra questioned.

“River… when she had her episode in the alleyway, and I was with Clara. I told Strax to take Clara home while I brought River back to the Tardis. I asked her what she was feeling and seeing.” The Doctor’s hands left his pockets in a flash, and she watched the wrinkled card slip from his pocket. His eyes widened, and he took a step back as if physically pushed. One hand lifted his hat as he ran a hand through shabby hair. “ _She will fall, my love, she will fall and you will not be able to catch her,_ ” he whispered in awe.

Vastra turned to look at him properly. “She said that? You’re sure she was referring to Clara?”

The Doctor’s nod was adamant. “She said her name! She knew Clara’s name!”

“Perhaps she’d heard you speak it… and it reached her despite the madness.” The Doctor rarely made proper sense in these moments, but she felt it necessary for _someone_ to be reasonable.

“She said that Clara would fall,” the Doctor insisted. “She _knew_ this would happen! She saw into the future! How could she have known?”

“Is it possible the telepathic field-”

“No, no, no! They amplified memories, but this wasn’t a memory! River _saw_ how Clara was going to die!” he exclaimed. Jenny turned from the grave to look back at them, and Vastra dropped a hand to his arm, hoping to quiet his rambling.

“You said you believed someone had rewritten a part of her past, Doctor… is it possible this is a side effect? Is it possible this gift of sight is what’s causing her difficulties?”

“Possible… not sure. I once knew a Dalek who tried to meddle with time. He saw the future and the past, and it drove him to madness. It’s different with River… she’s not nearly… she’s lucid… not always, but she’s finding control. She’s the child of the Tardis. It’s in her blood!” The Doctor fidgeted where he stood, as if every muscle were abuzz with spasms as well as the knowledge and understanding he’d only just considered. “Dear god… we’ve left her with Strax. I have to get back!”

Vastra watched him twist around. “Doctor!” she immediately called, urgently. “What about paying respects to Clara?”

The Doctor stilled, turning back to look at her, glancing at Jenny and the grave just nearby. “I’ve left her the flowers. Nothing to be done now. I’ve lost enough people today. I’ve got my wife waiting for me.” He was off once more, and she didn’t pursue. She knew better than to try and get in _his_ way. Whatever he was thinking… perhaps it was for the best. River Song was his number one priority. She could certainly respect that.

“Where’s the Doctor gone?” questioned Jenny, settling beside Vastra once again, her lovely brow wrinkled in confusion.

Vastra could only sigh and shake her head. “Minding the wife, my sweet… and perhaps saving her from the likes of Strax.”

Jenny smiled faintly at that. “I can’t say I blame him there, what were we thinking leaving the poor woman with him?” she remarked with an awkward smile in such dreary surroundings.

Vastra took her hand, holding tight, grateful for every second that her beloved remained well and at her side. No… she most certainly did not envy the Doctor. “I hardly believe we were thinking at all,” she admitted. “If she wasn’t mad before… she certainly will be now.”

*~*~*

The only reason he’d even agreed to this assignment to look after the Doctor’s mate rather than give glory to the fallen warrior, Clara, was because he was certain there was a stash of Miss Jenny's sherbet fancies buried deep within the Tardis. To be reduced to such a menial assignment… babysitting the feeble minded mad woman, it was beyond humiliating! He would find the sherbet fancies and devour them whole and without remorse! That gigantic head he could barely tolerate… filled with curly hair and a tongue Strax would eagerly remove with his blade (were she not important to the Doctor!) Bah!

She sipped on tea quietly while he rummaged through pantries for the sweet treats Madame Vastra refused to let him indulge in out of concern for his ‘overexcitement!’ Were they not his allies he would drop them all in vats of acid and revel in their screams while he devoured their biscuits and treats gleefully! His eyes lit up in triumph as he noticed a cooler placed in the back of the pantry, hidden away under worthless metal pans and pots. “My search is not in vain! I have found them!” he announced gaily.

He gripped the cooler and yanked it from it’s hiding place, ignoring the loud sounds of fallen metal to take a seat opposite the Doctor’s mate. He saw her roll eyes at him, but chose to focus instead on the opened cooler, sighing happily as he saw the treats inside, and dumped them upon the large plate he’d acquired. “You’re going to eat all of that?”

Strax narrowed his eyes warily as he stuffed the small foodstuff in his mouth and savored the sweet sugary cake. “You dare ask to share the spoils of my victory?” he grumbled.

“I was the one that told you where to look,” she pointed out, meeting his gaze without fear or hesitation. Despite this defect of the mind, she was exceptionally brazen. He suspected were they to have engaged in battle, it would have been glorious. Her skills rivaled that of the Doctor, though he would never admit such a thing possible out loud.

Perhaps he could use her request to his advantage? The Doctor would eventually notice his theft and enact revenge, and Strax shuddered to think what might be in store for him were he to be discovered. “A bargain then! I will allow you a limited number of the Doctor’s sweets if you agree to my terms!”

Lips curled into an interested smile. “Go on then… state your terms.”

Aha! He’d ensnared her interest! Strax was certain she would concede, falling right into his awaiting trap. “If the Doctor were to discover that Miss Jenny’s sherbet fancies have been stolen, you will take full responsibility for the consumption. As his mate, he will be lenient when preparing the proper penance for your crimes against him!”

He waited for her answer, staring her down, certain she would agree to his terms. The caked treats between them were especially tempting, even for a cunning warrior of River Song’s skill set. He watched her lean back in her seat with a sigh. “Agreed.”

Oh yes! He’d judged her correctly then! Her madness was truly great if she believed she’d fare well in their deal. “Indulge with me, then mad woman!” he encouraged proudly (certain he’d gotten the gender right this time) and popped the small sugary cake into his mouth, closing his eyes to truly embrace the pleasurable flavor of Miss Jenny’s treats. He did this several times, embracing the companionable silence between them, and indulging in his latest addiction. By the time he’d opened his eyes once again he could see River Song take her first bite of the delicious delicacy, however she seemed far less delighted. “Do you not find Miss Jenny’s fancies pleasing?” he questioned.

She immediately straightened, and her eyes hardened considerably. As a soldier of the Sontarans, he recognized the look, shame due to exposure of a weakness. It could not be helped, of course. Although bred for battle much like the Sontarans, she’d chosen the path of _love_ and _marriage_. Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint had taken an equally unwise course. Such pathetic endeavors proved to be no more than a distraction. It was wonder the Sontarans hadn’t achieved more victories and glory without the horrible distraction of romantic notions. “They’re fine, Strax,” she replied quickly, clearing her throat.

Deceit, of course, though he refused to be the one to expose her. He grew tired of the wretched look upon her face due to her inability to function normally. “If you are so concerned with this mental defect you have acquired, would it not be prudent to seek a worthy death to avoid future embarrassment?” he found himself asking, curiously. He did not understand these beings. The way they lived and loved… tearing and ripping to cling to life under some of the worst conditions. He would certainly admit death did not have the appeal he’d previously expected, having experienced it once himself, however… it had to be better than what the Doctor’s mate currently endured.

He watched the female stiffen for a moment, taking a sip of her tea with hands that trembled. “I remember death… I wasn’t fond of it.”

“Hmmm yes, mine was not nearly as glorious as I’d hoped either.” Strax nodded thoughtfully, shoving more of the tiny cakes into his mouth before he spoke further. “Even so… despite this defect, I believe you would be a worthy foe in glorious battle! I would take great pleasure in your death, and share your defeat with all who would listen.”

He did not expect the way her eyes softened just a bit, much like Miss Jenny’s would when he praised her own fighting skill. “Strax… did you just give me a compliment… on purpose?”

Strax stiffened in his seat, head held especially high. “You will tell no one! Or I will devise an extensively long and ruthless death for you, involving mimetic cluster mines, my best grenades, and lasers built on the shoulders of flesh starved monkeys!” 

He watched in horror as River Song laughed, and took another sip of her tea. Another voice echoed in the halls of the Tardis, and Strax’s stomach dropped. “River?! Strax?!” He would have to act quickly to avoid being discovered! He immediately shoved as many of the sugary treats that he could fit into his mouth, and slid the rest back into the cooler, thrusting them back into the pantry just as the Doctor arrived in the small kitchen. “There you two are! For a second I thought you’d gone and killed each other,” said the Doctor, clearly out of breath.

Strax chewed the sweets quickly, choking and coughing when they would lodge themselves down his throat. He could hear River Song snickering as he put away the pots and pans he’d let fall. “Strax tried to compliment me.”

“Betrayer!” Strax howled in disgust, snapping up to glare at her. “I did no such thing, you miserable vixen!”

The Doctor’s hands moved to his hips as he regarded Strax, and he swallowed hard under the Time Lord’s gaze. “Strax… did you eat my stash of Miss Jenny’s Sherbet Fancies?”

His eyes widened considerably, certain if he did not escape, he would endure severe punishment for his crimes. “I have fulfilled my assignment! Your mate is unharmed! I must see to other duties!” he shouted nervously and rushed off and out of the kitchen with great haste. He could still hear that… _creature’s_ laughter even as he reached the control room and made his way towards the exit. One day he would crush her… and grind her bones into white powder for daring to mock him in front of the Doctor! Served him right for allowing the boy some dignity! Mad woman, indeed!

**To Be Continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have discovered that nothing is more terrifying than writing Strax... omg, how?! Why is he so complicated?!


	4. The Gift Of Foresight

If she concentrated, River could sense the will of the Tardis. Telepathy was just _one_ of the gifts she possessed as the child of this wondrous ship, a gift she’d always treasured since the moment she’d first stepped through those doors. Most people didn’t comprehend that the ship was alive. They only saw a collection of wood, metal, levers, buttons… and hanging wires (the Doctor’s pet projects). To anyone else without understanding, the Tardis was just a box, bigger on the inside. It was so much more than that. It was safe. It was freedom. It was home.

That wasn’t to say she didn’t have a separate space. There was a life she’d led without the Doctor, a life he rarely touched or meddled with. She had another place that could be considered a home, left waiting since she’d left it for the Library. She’d came and went as she pleased once. She’d explored thousands of worlds, traveled through time in every direction she could think of… thousands of places in a thousand different years. Those were moments meant only for her. They were memories solely her own. Traveling with the Doctor wasn’t all there was, as her father had often told her. He’d loved his work with the same passion that she loved hers.

_“They asked me on full time… I’m still not quite sure how I managed to… commit,” Rory admitted with such astonishment that it made River shake with laughter. It was as if he’d only just discovered what life could be like were he to settle down entirely, and he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. She’d struggled with the same confusion after taking a position as a Professor on Luna. It seemed far too normal for a woman who’d spent as many years in prison as she._

_River gently placed her glass of wine back on the table and picked up the little black box beside it, letting her fingertips slide over the smooth surface (not quite metal, not quite plastic, distinctly alien). She’d only just missed the Doctor, busy off on a run after no more than a week in one place. She still couldn’t quite believe his determination to stay with her parents. A slow invasion, a good tactic, she could admit. The Doctor would go mad long before he learned their plans for Earth. When Rory had asked her about the cubes she’d spoken the usual. They’d solve it eventually. It was only a matter of time. “You’ll do just fine, father. They love you there.”_

_Rory’s lips curled into a proud smile, just then, because he had every right to be proud. He was an excellent nurse, worked harder than anyone, and he was so damned brilliant. How far he’d come since those early days when he’d first met the Doctor. How far they’d **all** come. “It’s not saving the world, I suppose-”_

_“Saving lives is special enough,” she argued, letting her hands skim the edges of the cube. She’d run into her grandfather sitting on the couch inside, fast asleep, with a cube in front of him (camera steadily recording it). River had thought it best not to ask what he was up to. Her father had shaken his head, about as eager to explain as she was to understand, and guided her outside for a drink. Mother would be home eventually. She’d gone out for drinks with friends just before River arrived. “We start to trivialize little things like saving a life when traveling with the Doctor, don’t we? What’s one life compared to a universe?” she sighed._

_Her father’s eyes settled on her profile, and she could tell he was concerned. Perhaps he ought to be. River had gotten extremely good at hiding her frustrations, but she’d made it a rule to be honest with her parents a very long time ago. Hadn’t she lied to them often enough because of her damned spoilers? Didn’t she deserve two people she could be honest with, completely? “River?”_

_She took a deep breath, placing the cube back on the table and turned to look at him. “His face changed.”_

_She could see Rory making that face, brow wrinkled in confusion, lips scrunched up awkwardly as he tried to make sense. “Not sure I follow.”_

_River’s smile was tight and full of tension. “Had a picnic on Asgard with the Doctor, but it wasn’t really him. It was a former regeneration, his tenth… I think, but who’s counting?” River shook her head. “I thought it would be difficult spending time with him young, but he hasn’t even met you and Amy at this point. There was nothing to connect us. He was too busy mourning the loss of his friend Donna Noble. Just when I feel like I have a grip on this, and he goes and changes his face. I feel like I’m learning him all over again.”_

_Of course her father’s instinct would immediately be to comfort her. “Still… a picnic? A bit romantic that young,” he noted._

_“He hasn’t known me very long. He’s not scared enough to run just yet,” she muttered, thoughtfully. “This regeneration… this face… he’s more curious.”_

_Silence settled between them. Neither knew quite what to say. They both felt the looming clouds of change, and she had no doubts her words of warning about the future were replaying in his mind. He’d thought her dramatic then, but that was before he’d realized she was his daughter. The little things weren’t so little when it was family. Suddenly a scrap on the knee was incredibly serious… awaiting a kiss that would take the pain away. Her dear father couldn’t solve this, and neither could she. Once again their hands were tied, and all they could do was ride out the storm… if she managed to survive it._

_“River, aside from your mother, you’re the strongest woman I have ever known.” Rory’s voice was soft and gentle, filled with such warmth. “I know he’s your… husband, but the Doctor isn’t all there is. Whatever happens, you’ll find a way. You’re a survivor, and I’m quite proud of that.”_

_She turned away when her eyes swelled with tears, but not quick enough. Rory slipped from his chair and moved to gather her in his arms. River clung to her father, almost embarrassed by the relief she felt in her dad’s arms. Moments like these were rare, but they shined more brightly in her hearts than anything else could._

River blinked away tears in the wake of memories, and she couldn’t quite place which timeline they belonged to… perhaps both. At least not _everything_ was unraveling around her. She took comfort in that. It didn’t, however, change the fact that she was finally starting to see what was happening to her, and it was more terrifying that she could have ever imagined. In the corners of her mind the fire blazed and overwhelmed her with comparisons of what should have been, and what would still take place. The future and the past all at once. Spoilers were one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

She’d thought it was a fluke the first time… when that very first image appeared in her waking dreams, and began shattering her realities. The sensation of falling hit her so suddenly she’d dropped to the cold winter ground and screamed. She knew she never should have left the Tardis, but how could she not? The rising panic had been far too great, and never in her life had she experienced such torment inside her own thoughts. River did what she always did, she ran, so far and so fast, but she couldn’t run from her own mind. She couldn’t escape the burning, not even in the bitter snow. _Something_ had urged her to leave. She’d felt controlled and trapped… and she, just a puppet for it’s (their) will. Her life rewritten and she was imprisoned in their words.

When she’d seen Clara and the Doctor her visions intensified. She was falling, splitting, ripping… and it never stopped. That face wasn’t a mystery to River. She’d seen it so many times before, and it burned in a future… now entwined with the Doctor’s. They needed to find her. She was _important_ , but River couldn’t understand why or how. She’d died, but she wasn’t dead. She’d tried to tell the Doctor. He hadn’t listened very well. Instead of focusing on Clara his mind was filled with solving River. That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, and she didn’t know how to make him _see_.

“My girls… did you come in here for a chat?”

River’s head shot up, caught off guard, and so lost in thought that she hadn’t heard him enter the control room. Her hands were stroking bits of the Tardis out of habit (one she shared with the Doctor). Even her mother had mocked her once or twice about it. “A chat implies we were both doing the talking, dear,” she replied coolly and stared down at her hand still pressed against the console. “I was thinking.”

She saw him fidget for a moment, and quirked an eyebrow as his flushed face. “Are you… alright? Did you need… ahem… _medicating_?”

River could never quite make peace with the fact that a thousand year old Time Lord could still blush over a simple thing like sex. The fact that it proved helpful mentally as well as physically took a bit of the fun out of everything, but teasing him over it… well, that would always be a delight. “Oh, don’t mind me… not as if I can’t self-medicate,” she purred.

His eyes widened immediately, and he tugged at his collar. “That’s… not necessary. I mean… I’m sure one could dance on their own, if they’d like, but I’ve always believed it takes two to tango.”

First it was medication, and now it was a dance. Well… the Doctor always did love dancing, didn’t he? “Really? Tell me, Doctor… ever tried the tango with _three_?”

Despite the blush, his lips curled knowingly. Not everyone was aware of his wicked side like she was, and oh could he be ever so _bad_. “I believe we’ve already had that birthday dance.”

“Hmmm,” she agreed with a wide smile. _That_ memory was definitely in both timelines. “No one ever said it had to be a one-time thing.”

It felt good to flirt, and perhaps forget for a while. Most often, no one ever realized how precious ‘normal’ was until things changed. On the outside she was just as she’d ever been. Professor River Song, Archeologist, the wife of the Doctor. On the inside she felt like her mind had become a magma chamber. Liquid heat was building and swirling, constantly moving and rising to the surface. Her brain was on overdrive… overactive, processing the world on a scale she’d never been able to comprehend before. She doubted anyone capable of enduring such knowledge, not even the Time Lords.

This was beyond hyper focus and psychic aptitude. She felt so much more than the planets turning. This went beyond the taste of fixed points in time, and the moments that flowed and changed constantly, free to be manipulated at her will. What she saw deep in the recesses of her mind was beyond the senses of a Time Lord. She was everywhere… and in every point in time. It wasn’t just two timelines going haywire in her head. It was two complete universes from the beginning of time to the end of it.

It burned and ached inside her head with such knowledge. It went far beyond the impossible. Her body was useless in the haze of unending time. She saw Clara… ripped apart and flung to every corner in the galaxy. She saw her parents, old and grey, and warm in their beds. She saw the Silence waiting for the coming end and their fall. She saw Gallifrey echo among the stars through a single crack. And then she saw the Doctor… her Doctor… fighting the unwinnable war with ancient eyes and aching hearts that were so very tired of running. She saw everything and anything… and it hurt like dying never could.

She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes until she felt the warmth of a body pressed against hers. “River?”

She’d almost fainted. River swallowed thickly and nodded her head to signal she was back. Her mind did that a lot. She came and went like waves against the sand. Sometimes she’d hang on longer than other times, but eventually she was always pulled back to the present. “I’m fine, sweetie… I’m fine,” she assured him.

“You’re not fine,” he insisted, his frown deep and full of concern. “This is not _fine_.”

River tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go. His hands gripped her hips, and he had her pinned against the console… no escape. The burning was constant and unrelenting, but she was learning endurance quickly. She couldn’t hide her agony from him, but in time she was certain she’d pick that up too. _Never let him see the damage._ She wasn’t even sure why it was so important that she hide… she couldn’t remember. River chanced looking at that expressive face of his, letting her arms settle around his neck. His concern for her was touching, but it was the last thing in the world she desired.

Her right hand caressed the side of his face, and she watched him lean into her without hesitation. This man was so desperate to protect her from something neither of them could even fully understand. There was no doubt he’d do just about anything to help her, but it was _him_ that needed guiding. He was the one drifting, not her. Whatever was happing to her was a burden she could and would withstand, because she was still River Song. She always knew what to do… in the end.

“You want to take me to the Monks.”

The surprise on his face was brief, but she caught it anyway. “It’s possible they could help you gain better control over what’s happening to you. Meditation has certainly proved useful for humans, allowing them to unlock certain abilities normally found to be dormant. It would give me time to solve this.”

River tilted her head to the side with a curious smile. “Me? In a room full of Monks?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Not my best plan, I’ll admit, but desperate times...” he shook his head, leaving the thought unfinished. “I would ask you to _try_ and behave yourself.”

“No.”

Her husband frowned. “No?”

The tide was coming in. River took a breath and plunged ahead. “You need to hear me out.” She felt him sigh against her, but this time it was _her_ refusing to let go as he tried to pull away. “I saw her, Doctor,” she insisted. “You know as well as I do that whatever’s happening to me is more than madness. I’m changing.”

“I’m sure it can be reversed.”

“It doesn’t matter if it can or not! What I’m seeing is _real_.”

The Doctor wasn’t looking at her. He was resisting her… the stubborn fool, such a child sometimes. “You can’t possibly know that! You can barely comprehend half of what you’re experiencing. I watched her die. Clara is dead.”

“Clara is NOT dead!” River snapped, pushing him away angrily. “She died and she keeps on dying again and again, but you never notice or remember! It hasn’t happened yet… nothing ever sticks!” The words poured from her mouth like an unending song on loop. She’d been insisting he listen for days, and each time he dismissed her visions. “She’s entrapped, Doctor… entrapped and entwined in your lives just as tightly as could ever be possible! She’s impossible, yes I know, but she lives!”

The Doctor growled his frustration, running a hand through shaggy hair. She moved towards the railing and gripped hard as he whirled around, glaring holes into the back of her head (no doubt). “River, you have to at least _think_ about what you’re telling me! It was one thing for you to see how she dies, but this doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I know what I saw… what I keep on seeing!” River turned back to meet his gaze, determined to set his path. The fire was rising behind her eyes, and she blinked back tears from the burning. She gave in to it because she didn’t have a choice. It would not be denied. “I see her running for you, saving you, dying over and over again. She’s screaming your name, and you never hear! She bangs against the glass, but you turn away! She dies in your arms and whispers the same thought like an echo. Why can’t you hear it? Why can’t you see?! _Run you clever boy… and remember me!_ ”

Everything got dark for a second, and she waited for the eruption, but it never came. He’d caught her… her Doctor (always catching her when she fell), and gently settled her on the floor. Wet lips pressed against, with just the right amount of pressure. His hands were everywhere, shoving aside clothes, sending her mind reeling with his desperate touch. River opened her eyes briefly as he broke their kiss and nibbled at her collarbone. “You waited too long coming to me.” She didn’t come to him at all, but she’s far too lost to point that out.

Her hands shot out for purchase, buried in his hair as he removed clothes with quick hands and earnest need. River gasped, eyes rolling back in her head. “Find Clara,” she whispered even as he overwhelmed her senses and cooled the flames. He was all around her, inside her, ripping her from the depths of this heat that wouldn’t go away. “It’s never been more important.”

The Doctor moved back up to kiss her lips, swallowing her protests. Every touch was like ecstasy, as refreshing as cool water while her body overheated. He deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth, and encouraged her to participate even as more endorphins flooded her system. He took care of her as he always did, desperate to bring her the pleasure that would cancel out her pain. River twisted away from the kiss with a scream when he hit _that_ spot, and nothing could prevent the blessed oblivion that followed. The burning faded into the dark once again.

*~*~*

_She was standing in the Library. Billions of books covering and detailing billions of lives with stories told and untold… always biographies. River’s hand touched the spines of thin books and thick books. Some were ancient and faded. Others were new and shined. Some looked worn, frequently read, and she could see bits of the pages folded where the reader had left off. Most of the names were unfamiliar to her, but eventually she saw it… Tardis blue. Her diary. It was shoved in a dark corner, seemingly out of sight, but she’d never seen anything so worn from use. It felt heavy in her hands once she’d struggled it out of it’s hiding place… larger than it was supposed to be._

_River’s hands touched frayed edges, the torn marks of pages that were missing, and the smudges of ink mixed with the oil from human skin. She opened it carefully for fear that it would fall apart in her hands. It was terribly fragile with such a state of abuse and age. Each page was filled with words and sketches, her entire life, from beginning to end… only it didn’t seem to end as fast as she’d expected. The pages kept flipping and flipping without number, and her brow wrinkled as she realized some of them were unfamiliar to her. Her future._

_“Every traveler needs a guide.”_

_River’s eyes shot up and she whirled around to look for the origin of the voice… female and familiar. She’d thought she was alone. “Hello?” she called out, snapping her diary shut. “Is someone there?”_

_A ghost of a hand touched her cheek, but there was no one standing in the darkness. “Every thief needs an accomplice,” the woman’s voice whispered in the dark._

_River took a step forward from the section she’d been in to peek around the other side. No one. Not a soul. She almost left the section entirely until another book caught her eye… an entire row, in fact. There was a name on every book, repeating over and over again as if someone had decided to print thousands of copies, but none were exact. Short, thin, old, new, thick, and tall… but the name on the cover never changed. Clara Oswin Oswald. She was real. River knew exactly where to find her._

River’s eyes snapped open and sought the brown eyes of the man sitting across from her. “Control you’re breathing,” he insisted calmly.

She focused on those eyes, on that voice; let it guide her back from the intensity of her waking dream. “I… I can’t believe that worked.”

Paul’s smile was warm and comforting as he shifted his hands from the sleeves of his robes to rest on the floor as he leaned down and blew out the candle between them. “You would not be the first to doubt your own abilities… nor will you be the last. Tell me what you saw, River Song.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself, overwhelmed by the calm in her mind. The ache remained, but that part of herself felt numb… as if frozen and still. The liquid magma lay dormant under the surface of cooled rock. “I was in the Library again. It’s gotten better this time to navigate it. Everything that ever was or ever will be, put down in books and packed away on their shelf… including my diary. I could control what I wanted to see. Organize the chaos.”

“The techniques I’ve been teaching you over the last few weeks seem to be working, then,” he noted.

She nodded in agreement. “I can still feel the burning in my head, but it feels more like a faucet now. When I open the books I release pressure. I’m not overwhelmed by what I see. Is it possible I could continue like this?”

“What I’ve shown you will only allow you to harness your gifts, but eruptions of a volcano are unpredictable, River Song. There will still be moments when not even your mind will be capable of containing what lies inside. However, volcanoes can go many centuries in sleep. There is nothing to suggest you cannot have this as well.”

River nodded. It certainly wasn’t what she’d been hoping he’d tell her, but it was a start. Gift or curse, she would work with what she had, and accept the things she simply couldn’t change. It was becoming a habit, she supposed. Her eyes wandered the nearly empty room around her; save for an old cot for sleeping with a scratchy blanket that could give a person a terrible rash. A few sketches from her mind decorated the walls, of the Library… of Clara. She turned back to Paul. It’d taken almost a month for her to learn the techniques that were keeping her lucid and functional.

It’d seemed obvious that the only way to quell the fires in her mind was to learn proper control. Constructing the Library from memory to store the secrets and spoilers locked in her way was poetic, she supposed. Everything changed the day she left the Library alive, and now she would turn that pivotal moment into her saving grace. She was still human. She had limitations. It was the part of her with Time Lord biology that kept her alive, but it couldn’t keep her from burning under the weight of knowledge beyond even the Doctor’s race. In Donna Noble’s case she was forced to forget. In River Song’s case… she would struggle with madness for the rest of her days.

Paul was staring back at her in silence, and she wasn’t certain how long. She did that sometimes. She’d go away for a while, several minutes at the very least. Paul always waited for her to bring herself back. River licked dry lips and focused her thoughts. “There was a voice. It felt familiar… a woman’s… and she knew me. She was trying to tell me something.”

“Did you listen?” he asked. The Monk never asked the questions River would have expected. He never pried, or insisted she say more than she was willing to share. She quite liked that about him.

“I could hear her, but that isn’t to say I understood what she said,” River admitted.

Paul’s smile faded some, and he looked down at the candle still smoking from the loss of flame. “It is unlikely that such words would be spoken unless you could eventually discover the true meaning behind them. Remain vigilant, River Song. You will understand in time.”

She nodded once more, and looked away, her mind wandering back to the copies of books and Clara’s name. She was starting to understand more and more about who Clara was. River knew she was important, especially for the Doctor, but now she was beginning to see how. They were running into ghosts and phantoms shredded through time. The Doctor needed to find the original. He needed to find _his_ Clara. “I think I need to see my husband. There’s someone out there that needs our help.”

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but paused head tilted to the side for a moment, and she heard it the same as him. “Do you hear?” he questioned.

River blinked. “I hear… bells?”

He nodded in agreement, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The bells of Saint John are ringing…” he whispered, and instantly stood. “I must go!”

She could only sigh, and roll her eyes. It was just as well. “Wait no… that’ll be for my husband! Haven’t you people ever heard of a phone?” she teased in amusement, gathering up her dress and following behind him. The Doctor was getting a call and once again… he wasn’t answering his damned phone.

**To Be Continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. I'm still not sure yet if I'll turn this into a series. The ideas are there, but I've got too many of those to count at this point! lol


	5. This Rain Tastes Bittersweet

_“What do you mean you’re not coming?!”_

_“Really? Are we truly going to have a domestic in front of Monks?” River questioned with folded arms, and a pointed glare._

_“It was you that insisted I go find Clara in the first place! You were the one that made me see that she was the same woman from the Dalek asylum… died twice with those same words repeating-”_

_“Then for god’s sake listen to her! Run,” River encouraged, stubbornly. She’d schooled her face well for this moment. She’d gone over it a million times in her head. It was difficult to stand there in front of the Tardis and send him away. Watching the Doctor leave was like having both her hearts ripped out from her chest, and when he returned both hearts were returned to their place._

_The Doctor always had plans. He was endlessly planning the things that could never be possible, or would never worked out. His plans for her were just impossible, she’d tried to tell him, but he never wanted to listen. How he could ever think she’d be happy locked away in the Tardis for the rest of her days was beyond comprehension. She had to follow her own path, as she always had, as she always would. It didn’t mean forever. She always came back. “River-”_

_River didn’t bother to hide the tear that escaped down her face, and she cupped his face with a wide smile despite it all. His hands covered over hers, and he dipped his head close, just barely resisting the urge to kiss her lips. Monks were watching, after all. “You **never** listen, my love. The man who notices everything, but you never even stop to hear my voice,” she scolded gently._

_He shook his head at that, stepping forward to press his forehead against hers. “I always listen, River. I always hear you. I just… don’t always like what you say.”_

_There was only one way to get him to accept her decision. He could never truly comprehend what lied ahead for them both. She knew, of course, but then again… she always did. In finding control over the chaos inside her, she’d gained an insight few could ever know, but it came with a price. Perhaps the Doctor’s rules had changed in this universe, but hers remained the same as ever. “I’ll be safe here with the Monks, there’s still so much they can help me with. I’d only be a burden to you out there in this state. Just go… it’s not like I’m not going anywhere.” He finally accepted her words, though he hesitated just the same before saying goodbye. “I’ll be right here,” she assured him warmly as he slipped into the Tardis. Little did he know… River Song lies._

River always loved the rain. Water soaking her curls and clothes till they were weighed down and clung to her skin. Most people would hate that, but for her it was bliss. It rained often in the forests surrounding the small village where she’d been hiding, though when she’d first arrived, it’d been some time since they’d last had a downpour. The village was quiet and simple, and in a little less than six hundred years she would lead an expedition to uncover the city just a few miles away. Touching their lives in the future felt just as exciting as living among them in the present. Pluviae Memoria, it wasn’t nearly what she’d expected, but it was exactly what she needed. The world of the memory rain.

The Library of her mind allowed her control over the wealth of information and understanding clawing at her conscious, however there was still so much she’d yet to recall. Like the snow that had fallen on Earth in 1892, the rain amplified memories of her mind. ‘ _Is this sensible?!_ ’ her thoughts supplied (with her father’s voice). “God I hope not,” she whispered, breathlessly, to no one in particular.

River took a moment to calm her nerves, controlling her breathing just as she’d been taught. She didn’t fight the burn. She let it flow out of every corner of her mind, and gripped a nearby tree in the wake of pure agony. It was quite possible she could die from this. The mind was only built to take so much, but it was worth the risks. She was already a ghost, wasn’t she? Pulled from death’s door and reshaped into something new. River could feel the blood pumping so fast in her veins with time energy absorbed in every single cell. _Wrong._ Not meant to live, but she had anyway. Someone rewrote time, her time, and she was going to find out who… once and for all.

_“What’s this then?” she asked as it dangled over her, still a bit breathless and smiling wide. The song of the singing towers still rang clear in her head though they’d left Darillium hours ago. Rarely did they have the opportunity for these linear moments, and the need for each other had been far too much. They danced, the towers sang, and the Doctor had laughed. River couldn’t remember seeing him so happy._

_Beneath the covers her legs still wrapped tight around his slim hips, not quite ready to let him go, though he didn’t seem all the anxious to move away from her either. He was propped up on his left elbow, while his right held up the screwdriver. A sheen of sweat, flushed skin, and it made him look positively sinful against her. It was evidence of their lovemaking held fast in her memories through the times when he was too young to know their story. The wicked smile made her swallow hard. “A gift from the old girl and me,” he replied roughly, and she could feel him stirring under the covers (Time Lord physiology had it’s perks, she supposed)._

_She took it from him as the arm dropped, and he tucked both arms underneath her, a fond smile on his lips. “I get my own screwdriver now?” she teased. “Whatever shall I do with this?”_

_He rolled his eyes at that. “Oi, don’t go getting ideas… my bad, bad girl! It’s mine, and I’m giving it to you.”_

_River narrowed her eyes. “Looks a bit different from the one you have, sweetie.”_

_“My old one. Same thing… it got ruined a while ago and I fixed it. The Tardis made a few adjustments, new features, a few improvements; poured her heart and soul into that beauty just for you. Still can’t figure out wood, but I’m working on it!”_

_“Why on Earth are you giving it to me?” He was up to something. She didn’t know what, but she could tell he was holding back from her. He leaned down to capture her lips in a quick kiss as her fingers slipped over the metal casing and she felt it vibrate in her hand. For a moment, a brief and strange moment, her skin tingled like tiny shockwaves through her fingertips and beyond. It didn’t hurt… just felt… different._

_He cleared his throat over her, and River’s eyes rose to meet his gaze. “It’s a gift, River. It’s just a gift.”_

She wasn’t sure when she’d collapsed, but she could feel the mud against her back, soaking into her hair and dress, as she stared at the sky. The rain continued to fall, harder now, and she wondered if she might drown like this. Would archeologists from her own century find her bones in the middle of the forest and wonder about the woman who’d died alone? River wouldn’t mind being in a museum one day. At least she’d be certain the Doctor would visit… even if it was unknowingly… too busy keeping score.

She cried out as the fires seemed to boil her from the inside out. Her vision blurred, hands trembled, and despite the heat inside… she felt numb. The sensation of being torn apart overwhelmed her, and she could almost visualize her Library shuddering, books flying off shelves, and everything tucked away was pressing against her at once. Eventually, it was possible River would go into shock. She closed her eyes and bit back a scream.

_“River! River what are you doing?!”_

_River tore at the console, ignoring sparks that nearly burned her hands. “She knows! The Tardis knows! She won’t tell me what she knows!”_

_He yanked her away roughly with a growl. “You love this ship, River… you are **damaging** her!”_

_“No, no, no, no! Wrong! She knows! She knows it’s wrong! Tell me! Tell me what you know!” she screamed as she tried to struggle from the Doctor’s tight grip. In her manic state her struggles were in vain. She kicked and clawed, but he kept pulling her away and away… from the heart of her… the heart of the Tardis. To see the time vortex in it’s purest form, and know why her world was wrong. “Let me see!”_

_The Doctor eventually picked her up, rushing back towards their bedroom. “You’ve got to stop this River! Please!”_

“Wrong!” River yelled out into the sky angrily. The wet across her face now a mix of tears and rain. She felt like her very cells were on fire. She was going to die here in the mud, and she wanted to. The constant strain would be over. Her burden would be gone. Finally… peace. The peace taken from her from the Library. The peace she should have had long ago. She was _wrong_!

Thunder rumbled so loudly it shook the ground and sent a vibration straight through her bones. She felt like she would melt here. Turn into a pool of liquid fire beneath the rain. Her hands dug into the mud, and her mind flashed with images of all the life on this planet… right down to the simplest particles (of rock and dust). She could see the size of it all. The entire universe in her mind. She couldn’t contain it. She was never meant to.

_River was staring at the moon. Shadows drew closer than ever, but she did not fear them. Her eyes were on the moon and she was almost certain it was staring back; just hanging over the Library like a silent protector… like the Centurion and the Pandorica. A guard to protect something so precious. She couldn’t stop staring. She couldn’t pull her gaze away. Words echoed in her mind that she did not recognize or understand. She felt like a woman possessed in those moments under the moon. Her head was pounding behind her eyes. She gripped the sonic and the feelings intensified, a plan forming in her mind, her cells burning with knowledge far beyond her._

_“Every traveler needs a guide. Every thief needs an accomplice. Run my child! Run with him!” the voice whispered from somewhere deep inside. She took a breath and looked down at her screwdriver… a gift of the Doctor’s, but created by the Tardis…._

“No!” she screamed, eyes wide, shaking. She couldn’t breathe. The truth ripped at her hearts. Not the Doctor’s fault… he hadn’t known. Energy. Time vortex energy like a trap that waited for her touch. A gift from the Doctor and the Tardis. Like a shock to her system, it woke her up. One touch. One single touch. The screwdriver… a gift and a curse. How could she? Why would she? “Wrong….”

*~*~*

“No, no, no! Don’t do that! What are you doing?” the Doctor exclaimed, making Clara jump. Her eyes went wide when she realized he was talking to the Tardis.

The ship lurched forward violently, and almost sent her slamming into the floor if she hadn’t gripped the rails. The Doctor, however, hadn’t been quite as lucky. He went flying to the floor hard with a painful thump, and groaned. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve never seen her like this before! She’s agitated!” he answered worriedly. “I don’t know where she’s taking us!”

“You mean the **ship** is driving?!” Clara shrieked. “Can it do that?!”

The Doctor’s pointed glare from the floor wasn’t nearly as threatening when he could just barely manage to get up on his own, but another lurch sent him flying once again, and she winced as his side connected with the corner of the Tardis’ console. “YES, SHE CAN DO THAT!” he screamed angrily, though she knew his frustrations were with the ship, and not truly directed at her. It didn’t stop her mouth from pressing into a disapproving frown.

“Has the Tardis _ever_ been reliable?” she complained, gripping the rails even harder as she was almost thrown over the side. The Doctor rolled past her comically, and yelped when he slipped down the stairs that led to the wooden doors.

Just when Clara was sure he would fly out, everything stopped. Her eyes remained wide and vigilant, refusing to let go just in case she was trying to fool them. This ship had never been very cooperative. She watched as the Doctor’s head popped up over the stares, eyes roving about as he crawled back up. Apparently, he was just as concerned with being thrown as she was. “I think we’ve landed,” he announced finally.

“Landed where?”

He hesitated a moment before using the console to stand, and started pressing buttons, seemingly at random. He peered into the view screen, brow wrinkled in confusion. “It’s a forest.”

“A forest?” she repeated, curiously.

“Raining a bit from the looks of it. Why would the Tardis take us here?” The Doctor looked up towards the doors of the ship, chewing at his lip and scratching the back of his head. “Oh… come on!” he finally muttered as he reached for his coat from a nearby chair and rushed down the stairs towards the doors. Clara followed behind him, cringing as she was immediately soaked under the downpour.

*~*~*

Clara had only been traveling with the Doctor for less than a year, but it was certainly enough time to know when something was very wrong. For one thing, the men in the village they’d come by were wearing lipstick. This was certainly a bit odd, but the Doctor’s reaction to their lipstick was especially panicked… and that was putting it mildly. “Oh that’s not good… that is very not good,” he mumbled under his breath, hands wringing, and eyes extra wide.

“Have you ever been here before, Doctor?” Clara asked, watching people pass them by with little interest. Some of the women would nod and smile, but for the most part they all seemed keen to mind their own, and ignore the strangely dressed tourists.

“This is Pluviae Memoria, it’s a planet at the edge of the Andromeda galaxy. As you can see, much of their cultures influence was from ancient Rome. New Corinth is just a few miles north from here… great city for a stag party. I think we had Jack’s twentieth in a tavern called ‘Amor Est Vitae Essentia’. Beautiful sentiment, but a bit of a conflict considering all the half-naked stripers.”

Clara had gotten used to not following the Doctor’s ramblings, and decided it was best not to ask questions she was certain she didn’t want answers to. Instead, she decided a change of subject was in order. “Do all men wear lipstick on this planet?”

The Doctor paused, turning back to look at her, and there was a glimpse of real concern in his eyes. He looked downright alarmed, but she didn’t tense. She didn’t feel like it was a threat that made the Doctor glance back at her with those eyes. He licked his lips, and shifted from one foot to the other. “Hallucinogenic lipstick. One kiss is all it takes. You see things that aren’t there; you can be manipulated to believe just about anything. She’s here…” he sighed.

“Who is?”

The Doctor growled angrily and turned back around, heading towards the large stone pillars that led to the village temple. “My wife!”

Wait… what? “You’re married?!”

“It’s a bit complicated, but essentially… yes,” he answered, rushing the steps and flashing his psychic paper to the guard just beyond. “I’m the personal high official to the emperor of New Corinth and I’m here under strict orders to find a woman. River Song, tell me you know that name.”

Clara wanted to say more, eyes wide as she realized just how little she knew about this man before her. Traveling for so long and she hadn’t even known he was married, but why had she never met his wife before? Why would she be here? Why was she using drugged lipstick on all the males of this village? And how the _hell_ was the Doctor married?

The guard glanced at the paper for a moment just as he flipped the psychic paper closed and tucked it away. She could see just a bit of the red against the side of his lips. His dark skin making her mark on him less obvious. “You wish to see the Oracle?”

Oracle? The Doctor’s wife was an Oracle? Or was that just the lipstick talking? The Doctor didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, the Oracle! Take me to the Oracle!”

The guard stared back at the two curiously, but his eyes glazed from the drug. “There has been a drought in the city for nearly three months. She predicted the rains and walked into the forest. The Oracle has not returned.”

Clara may not have known the Doctor’s name. She may not have known that he had a wife. Sometimes she was quite certain she didn’t know anything about him at all. She did know one thing, though, and it was good enough for her. She knew when the Doctor sensed trouble. The sonic screwdriver slipped from his pocket, and sad eyes searched out the readings as it glowed in the evening air. “Of course,” he whispered, brokenly. “Of course she would do something like this.”

He was off in the opposite direction in seconds, waving the sonic ahead of him desperately, and she was forced to follow behind. The mud pulled at her shoes, but she kept on moving, ignoring how her sweater clung to her back. “What’s wrong? Is she in danger?!”

The Doctor didn’t respond. He didn’t stop running. There was only one thing on his mind, and nothing else existed. He was desperately searching for his wife, and Clara was certain it had to be bad. His face was wet, but it wasn’t just from the rain. She knew what she saw, and it shook her to her core. The Doctor was crying….

*~*~*

River hadn’t expected to wake up, but she kept on doing that. She kept on breathing even without her permission. Perhaps she didn’t want to die. She didn’t actually need a walk in the rain to end her life. She could easily solve that problem with the barrel of a gun, but River was a practical woman. She certainly took risks without hesitation, but she wasn’t the sort to sacrifice her life unless there was reason. It had been worth it to know the truth, but it didn’t make the knowing any easier to swallow.

She felt the Tardis hum softly in her mind, like a lullaby from a loving mother to her child. It was calming. It made her feel safe. Her eyes roved the walls around her and swelled with tears that blurred her vision. “You knew better. What have you done?” she whispered. “Why would you even dare?”

The Tardis spoke in colors… perhaps the only way she could describe their connection. Colors had meanings, and they swirled in the screen of her mind to convey thought. Only the Doctor had ever been given the chance to communicate with the Tardis freely… back when he was still traveling with her parents. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she envied his experience just a tiny bit. She saw into the mind of the Tardis like a painting. It swirled with shades of pinks and yellows (tenderness, joy)… blues and purples (loyalty, wisdom), but when River thought of the Library and her death there was only one color… black. In the days when River died the Tardis turned black (mourning).

She could hear someone enter the room, and the familiar footfalls of her husband echoed in the silence. She knew he was probably quite cross with her, but he couldn’t possibly understand. The risk she’d taken was worth it. She would never regret how close she’d come to death in her efforts to see who was responsible for what had happened to her. The Tardis existed in every point of time and space. She saw the universe on a level no one else could imagine, but River was more. It wasn’t just the Silence that had been busy shaping her future. There was another force that saw what she was capable of. She’d rewritten time for _him_. She’d done it for the Doctor.

It was possible River should hate this. Her life had been permanently entwined with the Doctor’s since the moment of her birth. One could say she didn’t have a choice, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what her husband had told her. _I’m right here. I want to be here. And I’m not going anywhere._ No matter how often River left him behind, or forced him to leave her, those words were just as true for her as they were for him. She wasn’t going anywhere.

A sob ripped from her throat without her consent and he was gathering her into his arms in seconds. Her body wouldn’t stop shaking. She looked positively disgusting, she was certain, but he wouldn’t let go. She didn’t try to pull away for once. River Song was a strong woman. She’d been through enough in her life to build up walls, but the liquid heat in her mind had been burning them away without her knowledge, and she had no defenses left. She was falling ever so fast, and ever so hard, but her Doctor was determined to catch her even now. Just as always… she let him.

*~*~*

“Clara! I would like you to meet my beautiful wife… Professor River Song,” he introduced properly with a special gleam in his eye that spoke of utter pride. River might have blushed if she didn’t already know he adored her. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and smiled back at the young woman.

“It’s a pleasure, Clara. Forgive me my mental state before. It’s terribly impolite to throw things… even when struggling with insanity.” She couldn’t remember much about what happened when the Doctor found her in the woods, but she was fairly certain she’d been throwing mud at them both. She also remembered there’d been lots of screaming, but then again having one’s head overheat could be quite painful. She’d needed almost a week of rest to recover. River Song had finally had her eruption, and peace settled once more inside her mind. Her inner Library of knowledge was being rebuilt and would be stronger than ever. The burning had decreased to a manageable ache.

Clara’s hands held tight to her tea as she took a sip nervously, and tried to manage a smile. “You… have episodes like that often?”

They were sitting in the kitchen for this formal introduction. River had insisted upon it. To her left, her husband wolfed down Jammie Dodgers, grinning like a fool. “Not usually that bad, but memory rain… it sort of… heightens the madness.”

When Clara’s eyebrows wrinkled, River sighed.

“I’m mad, you see. Well, more than usual. I died once in an aborted timeline, and I remember my life twice. I managed to escape death in this one, but the escape involved exposing me to time energy from the time vortex, providing me knowledge beyond comprehension. If left uncontrolled my mind will burn up under the weight of it. Not even the Doctor would normally be able to endure being exposed to something like that,” she explained.

“Uh… I see,” said Clara, and River was quite certain she didn’t, but she would eventually. There was still so much waiting for her. The impossible girl. River knew. She always knew. She knew what waited for them both. She’d read the book of their lives in her dreams and she felt the words like whispers from behind, reminding her of her purpose and the day that was coming for them all… at Trenzalore. “So… you’re not completely human?”

River shook her head. “I’m the child of the Tardis. I was conceived here by human parents, and my DNA was manipulated by a religious order known as the Silence. I was exposed from the womb to the time vortex. It’s energy flows through my veins and allows me to see with unparalleled clarity. I’m… something new.”

The Doctor reached over to take River’s hand, his smile wide and full of unending devotion. “She’s amazing… isn’t she, Clara?”

Clara’s eyes took them both in, thoughtfully, and finally her lips curled with a knowing smile. “You and the Doctor… I think I get it now. Dear god Doctor, the Tardis made you a wife.”

River couldn’t help but laugh at that, realizing how terribly awful and mad it sounded. Even the Doctor choked on his biscuit, eyes widening in horror. Clara was rather clever though. “It’s not like that!” her husband protested.

“It is a little like that, sweetie,” River admitted.

The Doctor’s frown deepened and he rolled his eyes. “A crude explanation at _best_!”

_Her Doctor_ , River smiled in amusement. Inside her Library whirled with colors expressing such pleasure and joy. On a nearby table sat two blue diaries… Tardis blue. Bigger on the inside… damn near unending. The universe’s gift to the Doctor with gratitude. He would never be alone again. “Oh my love… just give the old girl your thanks and accept it. Miracles like these don’t happen every day, you know.”

His eyes grew serious at that, and River was certain he’d forgotten Clara was even in the room. His arm rested on the back of her chair, and he leaned forward to press his lips against hers. “Trust me, wife… I give my thanks every day that you exist. Just do me a favor from now on, eh?”

For him? Anything. “Name it, my love.”

“Don’t forget rule one.” His eyes seemed to burn just as powerfully as the knowledge left locked away in her mind, and she found herself quite breathless in the wake of it. He pressed his forehead against hers, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Clara smiling awkwardly, touched by the intimate scene before her… but mostly unsure of where to look. She’d have to get used to that. River felt her husband’s lip graze her ear and she shivered, listening closely to his request. “Don’t wander off.”

_That._ Oh she could most certainly do that. “No worries, husband. There’s no chance of that. Every traveler needs a guide….”

‘ _Every thief needs an accomplice_ ’ the Tardis supplied inside her mind. River smiled fondly and pressed her hand against his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere… not ever… and never again.”

“Promise?” he urged.

“No need for promises. I just know these things. I _always_ know.”

In her mind she closed their diaries with satisfaction. She hadn’t read it all. There were far too many stories in their pages. Her path, seemingly endless. _Wrong._ The word had grown faint, and she knew why now. Her torn edges were healing. Pages torn out were being replaced. The patchwork, perhaps sloppy, but it had given her the time to heal. No, her life wasn’t wrong anymore. For once, nothing in this universe had ever felt more right.

*~*~*

The Doctor remembered having such terrible nightmares after sending his wife off to the Library. He’d dreamt of shadows and ghosts… his name whispered in his ear… and the tears of his wife as she told him goodbye. He’d never been so desperate to forget, to block it from his mind like an impenetrable wall protecting a city from opposing armies. He’d held his breath until the moment she returned to him. An odd response considering he’d already known she would be okay (it was his past, after all). It wasn’t until much later that he’d realized time had been significantly altered. He was certainly supposed to notice these things, but what for? Why would he ever want to remember a time in which he’d lost his wife?

He was a selfish old man. He knew he was. Hell, even River knew he was. Sometimes she would spiral so fast and so hard that he wondered if it were possible to bring her back. Her mind would unravel without warning and he’d be forced to watch her scream, forced to hold her in his arms with tears in their eyes, and endure her torment until it passed. She would whisper words like _Trenzalore_ that sent a shiver down his spine. She would ramble on about secrets and Clara’s future that damn near shattered _his own_ sanity. He was a selfish old man, though. She counted on that.

Her latest episode had been bad, and extremely powerful despite his attempts to help. She’d spent most of the night shaking even as the burning in her mind eased. It’d been nearly a year since he’d seen one so awful. It usually only happened when something big was going to happen… life changing. The Doctor tried to be patient and wait. He waited for her for as long as it took. Watching her struggle to break free from whatever she’d seen (spoilers, no doubt), and rejoin the present once again. It felt like an eternity usually, though she was getting better and better with her recovery time.

The Doctor swallowed thickly, blinking back tears when she curled into his embrace with a quiet gasp. “How long was I out?” It was always the first thing she asked when she lost control.

“Half an hour,” his voice cracked, and he tightened his hold on her. He wasn’t afraid to admit he was terrified. She’d survived the Library only to endure something far worse. She suffered through it for him, and it made him sick. The universe had decided to let River live, but not without a price. He’d never expected it to be so high. She would often assure him that it was worth it. He didn’t always agree. She told him the things she saw and experienced were beyond explanation, a journey in itself. He’d rather _that_ be one journey she wasn’t forced to take. The Doctor kissed her temple and closed his eyes tight, wishing there was some way he could take this burden away from her. He would gladly take her place if he could.

River breathed deep, and he stilled when she laughed. The more intense visions usually left her emotionally charged, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing her laugh afterwards. She literally shook in his arms… _laughing_. His eyes opened, confused, certain she still wasn’t quite lucid yet.

“River?” he whispered. He looked for the usual manic signs. His hearts stilled in panic as he wondered if perhaps he’d lost her for good this time. Instead, he saw only joy and excitement. Her eyes seemed brighter than he could ever remember seeing them. She was practically buzzing with glee.

Eventually she quieted, amazement settled in her eyes when she turned to look at him, and he watched her hand slip down her body to rest on her stomach with a strange sort of tenderness. They were both naked, though the blankets had been kicked off the bed a while ago. The temperature was warm enough that it hadn’t really mattered. “I…” River shook her head and pulled away. He watched her sit up and did the same, settling his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped both arms around her.

“What is it? What did you see this time?” he asked her, almost afraid to know.

River sat there in his arms for far too long, obviously trying to comprehend her experience. She looked positively astounded. Eventually, River turned to look at him, forcing the Doctor to let go of her. He tried to focus on her face rather than give in to the distraction of two very gorgeous breasts on display (certainly difficult despite his best efforts). Her smile was wide as a hand settled on his cheek. “He… he was so beautiful, my love! Your hair and my eyes… and thank god… my chin!” Another fit overtook her and his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

She wasn’t making any bit of sense. He’d gotten used to that. “River… I’d really love to know what could possibly be so funny.”

River shook her head, kissing his lips soundly. Arms wrapped around his neck, and he smiled despite himself. “I didn’t even think it was possible! I mean… I never expected… certainly never thought I would want…” she didn’t finish the thought as her arms slipped away, mind racing with information he really wished she could share properly. She looked beyond overwhelmed, and perhaps a tiny bit terrified, but the smile never left her face. “Centuries in one place and in the snow… looked like a war zone… but it is us, after all! Oh Doctor… he’s… I hardly believe it possible, but I saw him! He was there and alive and… _ours_.”

His hearts skipped a beat by the end of her ramblings while his brain struggled to play catch up. Could she possibly mean… was she saying what he thought she was saying? “River… tell me exactly what you saw. I don’t give a damn about spoilers, just tell me. Please.” He needed her to say it. He wouldn’t believe it until she spoke the words.

River quirked an eyebrow at him wickedly, licking her lips as she took in his wide eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should be petrified or thrilled. Probably both. “I was standing in the snow, we both were. We’d aged a bit, but we were together… you and I. He walked out from the Tardis and pulled me into his arms, looking so unbelievably relieved… and Clara was just behind him. He was tall and lanky, with the greenest eyes, and floppy blonde hair… so grown up. He held me so tight I could hardly breathe. He called me… he called me ‘mum.’ I saw the future, my love… and sweetie, we have a son….”

He’d deny it till the very end, of course. The Doctor did have a reputation to protect. So many days certain he’d be alone forever. So many times he’d lost all hope for a happy end. He’d cried each and every time his hearts were broken. Like a baby… because it’d felt like the universe didn’t care. Then one day River Song did the impossible (not impossible, just highly unlikely). His wife came back to him alive and everything changed… kept on changing. It wasn’t the happy tears he’d deny really, or the fact that he’d immediately tackled River and joined in the celebration of what they would one day have. He _would_ , however, deny one thing about that moment… just one (even if River heard him say it).

The Doctor thanked the universe, and whispered these words, “okay… okay… I suppose now we’re even.”

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head I honestly loved the idea of writing further stories (especially involving the christmas special), so I left the ending a bit more open than my last story. Whether I continue depends on time and encouragement to do so. lol No pointing in writing it if you guys are already satisfied with this! Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed the story and thanks to everyone's support and comments! As always, you guys are BRILLIANT! :D
> 
> I know the end is rather bittersweet though, but it seemed more honest than all those endings where everything works out. River will have to struggle with this gift of hers, but that doesn't mean she doesn't embrace what it offers to her (like the chance to live and be happy with the Doctor the way she never could before), and River's just tough enough to handle it. I hope my ending made sense though. Jeez!


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